Dark and Shadow: Promises Kept
by Nika Dixon
Summary: FINAL CHAPTERS UP! Things that aren't there, and things that weren't there before, except shadows and darkness. Ronon/Keller Story now complete.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** This story follows lullaby - you needn't read it first to complete the tale, it just makes more sense. And yes, dear reader, the other chapters will follow quickly and furiously so be prepared. PS - I didn't beta this as much as I should have, so please excuse any typo's... the 4 year old can be a mite distracting some days, and it is well after midnight. Mommy's tired._

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Dark and Shadow: Promises Kept

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Jen couldn't stop her hands from shaking while she wrote the reports. No matter how hard her mind tried to convince her there was nothing wrong, her body didn't believe. Couldn't believe.

There was nothing she could see… nothing she could hear… no strange scents, no footsteps, no visual clues that anyone was here, or had been here.

Yet there it was – sitting in her trashcan, right were she'd thrown it.

The pretty little yellow flower.

Lying on top of the rest of the now wilted and faded petals.

Maybe she was overworked.

Maybe she was going crazy.

Or maybe-

"Dr. Keller?" Catherine stuck her head in the office and Jen jumped so high she lost control of her pen drew a huge blue streak across the papers.

"Y-yes?" Jen stammered, quickly straightening her hair in a an attempt to look less flustered. The strange look her nurse was giving her pretty much said it all. No success.

Jen sighed and tried again, using a deep breath to control her wobbly tone. "Yes Catharine?"

"Could you take care of some stitches for me?" Catharine's smile faltered and Jen felt her own mouth turning up slightly.

There was only one person who could possibly need stitches this late in the day – and only one person Catharine would rather _not_ suture up.

_Ronon_.

With a nod, Jen stood and followed Catharine into the main room of the infirmary, noting how quickly Catharine scattered, leaving Jen to cross the distance alone. Normally this wouldn't bother her. But the past forty-eight hours were anything but normal.

Seated on one of the beds, Ronon straightened when she approached, a half-apologetic smirk on his face. He was holding a piece of gauze against the back of his forearm.

Jen might have laughed to see him here after yet another sparring accident, if she wasn't still stuck on the quickly growing pile of little yellow flowers in her garbage can… and well… everything else.

She stepped up beside him and lifted his arm. He pulled the gauze away to reveal a short, deep cut on the underside of his arm. Three, maybe four stitches. Nothing serious.

She straightened and walked around to the far side of the bed where Catharine had set up a suture tray. Jen could feel Ronon's eyes on her. She glanced up to see a curious look on his face.

"You okay?" He asked, and she had a brief moment of panic causing her to look quickly around the room – still empty – and then down at her clothes – nothing there.

"Y-yes. Fine. I'm fine. Really. I mean… why wouldn't I be?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're… quiet, is all."

"Oh."

Jen stared into his eyes accepting a tiny moment of clarity before looking away. She stared down at the instruments on the small tray. She reached forward, and cursed the tiny tremble in her fingers.

Staring at his back she argued with herself. What if she had a second opinion? If someone could validate? Tell her if she really was… No? Well… No. Okay maybe. Or maybe not. Oh hell, this was so stupid. But if anyone could – Ronon could.

"Doc?" He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Yes? What? Oh. Sorry." Snapping on a pair of latex gloves she leaned forward and straightened his arm out to give her better access to the affected area.

While she cleaned the wound, she continued to debate internally, her eyes shifting across the room to her office and the garbage can she couldn't see behind her desk.

When she stopped, and his eyes looked over his shoulder at her again, she took a deep breath and leapt.

Leaning closer to his back, she spoke softly, praying he wasn't going to think she was completely insane, and really, really hoping he wouldn't laugh. Because in an empty infirmary, with no one else around… It didn't make sense. And she really didn't want Ronon telling Colonel Sheppard she was hiding behind his back talking to him in panicked whispers. They'd ship her to Earth faster than you could say mental-ward.

"Oh hell." She cursed herself. _You need help. He can help. You just have to trust him._

"Ronon if you can hear me, don't answer, just… just nod."

Nothing.

Then a slight nod.

She exhaled, and tried to slow the skittering beat of her heart. Her fingers shook slightly and she quickly clenched and unclenched them. _Okay. Okay now just… get the rest out and voila…_

"You told me I could come to you if… if I ever needed help." She whispered. "Did you… did you really mean that?"

She felt his arm tense beneath her fingertips, then he nodded.

With a long exhale she continued on in a quick rush of softly spoken words. "I need a second opinion on something. Can you… I mean… of course you can… but _would_ you… would you be willing to follow someone for me?"

His shoulders straightened.

She froze with the brief flash of fear that she'd blown it. He wasn't going to help her. It was a silly thing to ask. He'd want to know why.

When he gave a barely perceptible nod, her body physically shook with relief. Unclenching her knotted fingers she took a deep, steadying breath, and continued on with the last two stitches.

"Can you do it without letting anyone see you're there? Is that possible? Here? In Atlantis? Just watch? Watch and then let me know later if you sense anything unusual? Anything at all, no matter how silly it seems?"

Another nod.

"Can you do it tonight? Right now? Just for a couple of hours? Until midnight?"

Nod.

"I can't tell you what to look for because I don't know myself. I just want… I want your take on it… and it's just for a couple of hours. I promise."

He nodded again.

"Okay. Okay." She inhaled, a sense of relief sliding down her shoulders to know he could do it. He would do it. _But you have to tell him what to do first, wing-nut. Right._

"Ronon… I…" _Oh hell this is not going to come out right_. "I need… I need you to follow…" _Just spit it out! "_I want you to follow… me."

He didn't move.

"I need to know what you see." This time she couldn't keep her voice from cracking. "Please."

When he didn't move, other than the shoulder muscles which tensed and flexed beneath her finger tips, she turned away, dropping her things onto the tray and removing her gloves. A few furious blinks and she had herself under control. She should never have asked. It was stupid. _She_ was stupid for even thinking it was a good idea. She'd figure something else out. Wouldn't she?

"You're um… good to go." Jen said quickly, her voice back at a normal level. Stepping around the bed without looking back, she hurried to her office.

She was halfway across the floor when the hand touched her shoulder and she gasped, dropping and ducking to the side as she spun around, wanting to see what she didn't want to see.

Except this time – there really _was_ a person standing there – and this person was watching her with an expression somewhere between concern and anger.

"I…" She swallowed hard and blew her breath out through her nose and tried to remember not to bite her lower lip so hard. "I'm sorry, Ronon. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have said anything."

When she tried to turn away, Ronon stopped her, again, with a hand to her shoulder. She could see the questions in his eyes, and braced herself for the barrage she couldn't answer.

He squeezed her shoulder, a faint, light rub of his thumb across her collarbone. In silence he turned and left, disappearing into the hallway, and leaving her standing in the middle of the infirmary, alone, and feeling every bit of it.

Jen really hoped that was a yes.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken all Ronon's willpower not to shake the answers out of her in the infirmary.

And then some.

He'd made her promise to come to him. To help without question. Only now the questions plaguing him were digging deeper into his abdomen and he was having a very, very difficult time processing the request.

Why did she feel the need to whisper in an empty infirmary?

Why did she react with such disgust and horror when he touched her? The way she cowered and spun away from his hand gave him the instant picture that she'd expected to be harmed. Yet she'd known _he_ was right there – would he not have protected her?

And the look on her face when she'd turned was excruciating – because for a brief flash of time, he'd thought she'd been afraid of _him_.

There was one thing he'd embraced within his heart over the past few months – Jennifer wasn't afraid of him. He could growl and push and fight her to the point of scaring away everyone in the damn infirmary, and she treated him like an obstinate child. He could break her into pieces and she talked back to him as though he was no taller than her knee.

And until two hours ago, he'd never, ever expected to see that kind of raw fear in her eyes – directed at him.

It was something he would not see again.

If he had anything to do or say about it.

It was that which made him want the answers with an even greater fury.

And it was exactly that which had him currently trailing her down the extended hallway out along the far end of one of the massive city piers.

He'd felt the tremble in her fingers when she'd cleaned the back of his arm. Could see the distracted wariness in her eyes as she seemed to be constantly looking for someone in an empty room. But it was the way she'd said _please_ that cut him deeply.

She'd stayed in the infirmary, in her office, for an hour doing paperwork before leaving for a late night snack in the nearly empty mess-hall. She didn't sit with anyone, choosing instead a small table in the back corner with her back to the wall, where she ate a muffin and stared expectantly at the surrounding tables, as though she expected the chairs to start walking around.

After returning to the infirmary for a brief chat with the head nurse, she'd received a call from one of the teams scouting some of the undiscovered rooms at the end of the west pier. Grabbing a small first-aid bag she'd explained her destination to the nurse, and headed for the nearest transporter.

As he watched, and followed, his mind cleared itself of scenarios and what-ifs and he concentrated on doing what's she'd asked… observe.

And protect.

His own addition to her request.

She would not know he was there – he knew this for a fact. Yet still she stopped along the empty hallways, looking around her as though expecting to see someone in the shadows. Her eyes moved around corners first, her shoulders tensing as though something were about to jump out at her. Her reaction to the nothingness was making him incredibly sensitive, his senses tuned into his surroundings with such clarity he could follow her with his eyes closed, his path based solely on the faint sound of her soft soled shoes on the clear floor, and the catch in her breath every time she passed a doorway or a hallway.

When she reached the end of the pier, she quickly found the two Marines, and aided the young Lieutenant who'd stabbed his palm on something pronged and double edged while leaning on a half covered Ancient console. Ronon heard her praising the Captain for having the good sense not to try and part the soldier from the piece of metal under the repercussion of losing use of his fingers. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes but she was able to pull the Lieutenant free, bandage his hand, and have the Captain escort him to the infirmary to have the entire hook removed and his hand sutured.

As soon as they left, she radioed Christine to warn them the Lieutenant was on his way, what the situation was, and left details for removing the sharp piece of metal. She then bent and began to quickly pack up her supplies.

Once her bag was packed, she stood.

And that was when he felt it.

A… presence.

Someone coming.

No, someone here.

Yet no one had come past him.

His eyes betrayed nothing but Jennifer, who was spinning in a circle as she too felt the additional force. He could see it in her face – the return of the fear.

And then he heard it.

A distant rumble.

Low and vibrating.

She was standing near the intersection of a hallway – a crossroads – and took a tentative step into the opening of the intersecting corridors.

The rumble grew.

Ronon's tension expanded and coiled.

Something was coming.

Something big.

The sound roared, shaking the floor like a thousand hooves.

When she cried out and spun away, her body moving with panicked speed, he leapt forward. Too far away to reach her. Too far away to catch her as a wall of water crashed along the tunnel it made of the corridor, and swept her beneath its angry froth of white.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note:** Chapter 3! Sorry I haven't quite finished 4 but I'll have it done and up hopefully later tonight. :) Enjoy! And yes I'm adding them as fast as I can! I hate waiting myself... :P Again, apologies for any typo's!_

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A flash of dark tumbled in the water – an arm… a leg – giving away her position as the forward edges of the wave churned towards him.

Moving with the direction of the water, he ran ahead of the leading edge of the foam, scanning for an escape while he kept track of each body part of Jennifer's he saw struggling beneath the foam.

_A staircase. _

Sliding to a stop he grabbed the railing and braced himself for the crush of water while his eyes searched the wave's edge. He saw a flash of dark as the water slammed into him – knocking his legs out. He lunged forward his fingertips connecting with cloth and a limb.

He pulled, shoulders straining as the water tried to snatch away what was his, but he refused to let go. With a growl he told the water who would be stronger, and heaved. An arm. A head. Half a torso of sopping, flailing, coughing woman. He struggled to hold the dead weight of her body against the powerful pull of the rushing water.

A massive clang sounded behind him, followed by another. And another. With each echo, the rushing force of the water slowed, but the level still rose. The foam parted and cleared, leaving him waist deep in the ebbing and flowing liquid. At the end of the corridor another metallic echo announced the closure of the city doors.

Behind him – closed as well.

They were trapped.

And the water was still rising.

As Jennifer struggled to stand, her fingertips digging into his forearm, he pulled her forward, shoving her around the edge of the railing towards the staircase.

"Up!" He commanded. "Up!"

Coughing violently, she stumbled and fell, disappearing beneath the surface and he grabbed for her, yanking her out by the back of her jacket. He guided her towards the stairs and half pushed, half carried her up towards the second level platform.

The water now covered half the stairs.

He ran his hand over the access panel at the top of the stairs but the doors remained sealed.

"McKay!" His voice was loud even to his own ears as he yelled into his communicator. "McKay!"

"What! What! Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?"

"End of the west pier!" Ronon shouted, pulling Jennifer up to her feet. She grabbed his arms and held on. "Second level down is flooding fast! We're sealed in. Get these doors open!"

"Your… what? Where? Flooding? What the hell did you do!"

"McKay!"

"All right! All right! I'm working on it!" Came the reply.

The water was only a few steps away from their miniature island of dry land. He could feel Jennifer's body cowering against his but he had to let go. Diving towards the seal on the door he tried to find purchase for his fingers. He couldn't get a solid grip. Nothing he tried would budge them.

"McKay!" Ronon yelled again as the water lapped over the edge of the last step.

"Stop!" McKay yelled. "Just… stop… talking!"

Water reached their feet.

Jennifer coughed again, and frantically waved her hand over the door access. It let out a pitiful beep and refused to open.

"Try it now!" Rodney's voice commanded.

Ronon slid his hand up across the panel but the door remained sealed.

"Nothing!" Ronon yelled, his eyes scanning the smooth ceiling. There were no grates near them, no access panels, nothing other than smooth surfaces and rising water. He grabbed Jennifer and pulled her closer, pinning her against the seal of the door. If the damn things opened, even a little, he should be able to force them apart enough to at least get her through to safety. He felt her hands fisting into the front of his shirt, her forehead buried against his chest.

"McKay!" He yelled again, as the water covered his already wet boots and quickly churned it's way up to his knees.

"I'm… trying! Damn it! No not yet!" Rodney yelled back. "I don't know! The water! Yes, yes just do it! Would you shut up for a minute and let me concentrate?"

A low, vibrating thud shook the staircase, rocking the water and creating a surge of small waves. A giant trough of bubbles spewed up into the air at the end of the hallway, sending water raining down onto the surface. With a sudden rush, Ronon could feel the water retreating. He looked down and watched it passing his legs and boots, leaving them standing on a slick platform above the descending surface.

"Water should be draining!" McKay shouted, "I'll get the door next to your position."

Ronon didn't have time to answer. When the door suddenly slammed open, Jennifer's balance was gone and she toppled backwards with a gasp. Ronon spun as he fell, pulling her over him as he landed on his back, Jennifer splayed across the front of his body.

"Ronon!" McKay's voice came back with a shout. "Ronon!"

"We're here." He exhaled, dropping his head onto the dry floor.

"Help's coming." Rodney acknowledged, with a slightly less panicked quality. "Who's with you? I show two life-signs."

"Keller." Ronon answered, feeling Jennifer's cold hand tightly wedging itself against the side of his neck. She coughed again, her head lying across his chest. She tried to slide off him but he quickly wrapped his arms around her, pinning her tightly against his body. He wasn't quite ready to let her go just yet.


	4. Chapter 4

Midnight had come and gone and Jen was beginning to wonder just how much longer she was going to be able to stay awake. Right now her half-drowned body wanted nothing more than to lay down in the corner of Woolsey's office and go to sleep. Even with the raucous discussion going on around her.

With a blanket tightly wrapped around her body, and another to sit on so she wouldn't leave a big, sopping puddle on the floor, she tuned back into the conversation and tried to ignore her body's order to just close her eyes where she sat.

"Look," Rodney was saying. "Atlantis _is_ a space ship. It doesn't have to land in water… you can land the damn thing just about anywhere flat, including land. Just because we've chosen to float around the ocean like a giant mechanical lily-pad, doesn't mean it's not possible. It has… legs… supports… somewhere… we just don't need to engage them with a bazillion gallons of water to support us."

"Okay fine." John held up his hand to stop McKay's rant. "It's a ship. We get it. But if it's able to land in water, why are there doors at the end of the piers that can let in the ocean?"

"There aren't." Rodney rolled his eyes. "Those are doors to get outside when you land on… well, land. Some overzealous idiot who was probably looking for the transporter, overrode the security protocols and opened the outer doors. Woosh! In comes the water. The city closed off the inner doors, but not before a hell of a lot of the sea got in."

"How the hell can someone just open outer doors?" Ronon growled, turning Jen's head towards where he stood in the back corner, arms crossed and looking pretty amazing for a man who'd been half submerged. She shook her head with a sigh, knowing she looked, and felt, exactly like a drowned rat should. Yet he looked… well… he looked… exactly like he always did. Strong. Powerful.

_Figures_.

"Well, obviously the Ancients knew better. And until now…" Rodney shrugged, tugging her mind away from Ronon. "It didn't require anything higher than an entry level access code."

"And now?" Evan asked, from his perch on the edge of Woolsey's desk.

"Now us, and Zelenka."

"Do we at least know who it was that opened the doors?" John asked hopefully.

Rodney shook his head. "As far as we know, no one is missing."

"Could it have been done remotely?" Woolsey asked, pulling his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Jen felt a tinge of remorse for dragging the poor man out of his bed. Actually she felt a little guilty for dragging everyone out of their beds. A little guilty, a little bit more tired, and a hell of a lot more frightened over what happened.

If Ronon hadn't been there…

Her body jerked just thinking about it.

She tuned out Rodney's explanation of remote access and fell into her own thoughts. Everything had been, well, pretty normal – if you could call it that – since she'd had her embarrassing conversation from hell with Ronon in the infirmary. If you could consider what she'd said a conversation, because you couldn't really, since she'd done all the talking, and he'd well, he'd left. But apparently he had agreed. Because he'd come. He'd been there.

She'd felt it again. Right before the water. The sudden tingling in the back of her neck. The feeling that someone was standing beside her. But there was no one there. She'd argued with herself that it could have just been Ronon – but the fact that A) she didn't know if Ronon had even agreed, and B) all the other times it had happened he'd been off world, left her with pretty much the only answer she could admit.

It was happening again.

And then she'd felt the vibration in the floor.

Heard the rumble.

Saw the water.

Felt its power as it slammed her down underneath the surface.

"Doc?"

Jen's head snapped up and she jumped.

Five pairs of eyes watching her – concern, worry, concern, confusion, heat.

She snapped away from the directness of Ronon's gaze and turned towards John, who was asking her a question.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Could you repeat the question?"

John gave her a half smile. "I was just saying that there's nothing more we can do tonight until we've cleared those levels." He angled his head towards the door. "Why don't you get out of here?"

Jen nodded and stood quickly, feeling the soppy material sliding across her skin as she moved. "Right. Okay. Well, good night then."

She was halfway down the stairs before she realized she wasn't alone.

Ronon didn't speak.

He merely walked with her through the empty corridors towards her quarters.

When they reached her room, she hesitated, turning towards him, wanting to say so much, but having only words which seemed too little. How did you thank someone for saving your life at such a great risk to their own? And he'd done it without question.

She could see it in his eyes – he was fighting to ask. She knew she owed him an explanation. An explanation for a situation she couldn't explain, and couldn't describe as anything more than an expected shadow, an unnerving feeling, and a terrifying touch.

And that – was the whole problem.

She could feel her senses taking over again and wanted desperately to shut them out. Her trembling hand reached for the door access, and was immediately surrounded by the warmth of his fingers.

"Jennifer."

She looked at the floor, then her hand firmly enveloped in his, then to his chest, and finally his eyes. He called her Jennifer. It never ceased to amaze her how completely unusual her name sounded when it rolled of his lips. It made her forget pretty much everything except the inane desire to hear him say it again…

"We need to talk."

She snapped back, and struggled to focus her mind. Exhaustion, adrenaline crash, and lack of sleep left her stuttering out a messed up explanation even she couldn't understand. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I just…" _can't._ "I don't know…" _how to even begin._ She shook her head. "You'd never…" _believe it._ "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Hey."

She slowly raised her head.

"You can _talk_ to me you know."

She nodded. "I know. And…" She bit her lower lip before continuing. "I know I owe you an explanation. I do. And thank you for not telling the others why you were there. Because if you hadn't been there…"

"I was."

"But if you hadn't…" She shook her head, furiously blinking against the burning behind her eyelids. She pinched her eyes closed with her free hand.

He released her fingers and placed his hands on her shoulders, spinning her around. "You're tired."

She let out a half laugh, and swiped at the panel. "Oh yeah." Her door slid open and she stared into the brightly lit interior, forgetting for a moment she'd purposely left all her lights on so there'd be no darkness to come home too.

Leaning slowly forward, she felt a sharp prickle on the back of her neck and sharply inhaled. Ronon's hands were still on her shoulders and she could feel the tension suddenly radiating off him.

His fingers jerked against her collarbone and he pulled her back into the hallway. Pushing her against the wall in the corridor, he held up his palm and motioned for her to stay.

She didn't have to be told to keep out – there was no way she was going to be going in there at the moment. Not like this. Not with _that_ in there.

She was so intent on keeping herself breathing she barely registered his movement… then he was suddenly standing in front of her and she shrieked, jumping to the side and nearly falling over.

His arms caught hers and held her upright.

"It's empty."

"I know." She nodded, earning her a sharp, narrowed stare.

With a deep breath, she prayed she'd hear the answer she'd hoped for, and asked the question she'd been too terrified to even consider posing before now.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

.

.

.

.

_A/N sorry to hang it there but there's more coming! I promise! And I hope you're going to like how dark and twisted it's going to get! Hang on to your hats! _


	5. Chapter 5

"Pack a bag. You're not staying here." Ronon said, his voice leaving little room for argument. And well, if Jen really wanted to be picky, she wasn't exactly in any condition to have an argument, much less _this_ particular one.

So she simply nodded, and reached for a small duffel bag sitting on the floor just inside her doorway.

And of course, the fact that she'd already _had_ a bag packed, earned her not only a narrowed stare, but a short growl when his eyes left her face and traveled to the bag in her fingers.

But… he didn't ask.

Not yet anyway.

As she walked with him, wondering where they were going, and not really caring if he was going to find her a spot to crash for the night. Although she did have to question why she was following him when she could just as easily go sleep in one of the empty beds in the infirmary… it wasn't like she hadn't done that before. But maybe he had a better idea. She supposed she could just go snag one of the empty rooms on the lower levels of the crew area… there were always temporary beds set up for new people. They were headed in the right direction. And it would make sense since the Daedalus wouldn't be back for weeks yet. She wondered why she hadn't thought of that sooner because it would have been much quieter than trying to sleep in the infirmary, and with less…

"Ow." She muttered around a huge yawn, slamming into the front of his chest, realizing with a heated flush that he'd stopped and turned, and she, well, hadn't even been paying attention.

He swiped his hand over the door access and pulled her gently into his quarters. When the door closed behind them, he turned towards her, and she had an awkward feeling she knew what was coming.

He watched her for a moment and she stared into his eyes, seeing the mix of desire to ask, swirling around concern. Her abdomen tightened to know he'd be worried about her – worried enough to bring her _here_.

He stepped closer, and she lifted her chin.

"You asked for my help." He said quietly, emerald eyes softening as he searched her face for answers she couldn't yet give. "And I'll give it."

Jen exhaled, the worry she'd been too afraid to voice, flowed off her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"But I ask for something in return."

She chewed the inside of her lip, then nodded, no idea what she was going to say, but she'd answer as best she could. If she could. Oh, damn, how the heck was she going to explain to Ronon what she couldn't even explain to herself?

"I want you to trust me." Was all he said.

Jen blinked. "I… Of course."

"If I ask you to do something, I need you to do it. No questions asked."

She nodded again.

He watched her for a few more minutes, his fingers reaching up to push a straggled chunk of hair away from the side of her face. She shivered at the contact, and pressed her face closer to the warmth of his hand. He opened his fingers when she moved, and she could feel the heat and strength radiating of his palm as he placed it against her cheek.

When her arms lifted, she didn't have far to go as he leaned forward, meeting her halfway, and enveloping her against him. She sighed and buried her face in the front of his shirt, which was still a little damp, but she didn't care. It smelled of sea water, and it smelled of Ronon. She ignored the faint salty tang of the ocean and inhaled deeply, locking his scent into her memory.

She felt his chin rest lightly on the top of her head and almost giggled at the picky sensation of his whiskers against her scalp. His hand lifted up her back, leaving a faded trail of heat as it moved up towards her neck. Nestling against the base of her skull, she tilted her head back, resting the weight of her head in his hand.

She saw his eyes shift, the green suddenly swirling with something darker, and her body reacted with a deep, ancient understanding. When his lips lowered, she toed herself higher and met them as they descended. It was soft, and subtle, and tasted of safety and warmth. He didn't linger – pulling away – leaving her wanting more, but satisfied with what she'd received.

"You scared me tonight." He admitted, his face serious.

In the safety of his arms she felt herself smile.

"I scared you, huh. Well that's a change."

She smiled harder when she saw the corner's of his mouth twitch. Then he sobered, his eyes scanning her face, and she felt her own smile falling away.

"I want to look around." He said, his arms slowly sliding down to release her.

Jen stepped back, understanding his statement to her, was actually a question. He wouldn't leave if she didn't want him to.

And she _didn't_ want him too, but she nodded anyway.

"Stay here." He turned away, and headed towards his door. "Get some sleep."

And without a backward glance he was gone, and she was alone.

A few minutes later, freshly showered, happily wearing dry pajamas and snuggled beneath the covers on his bed, she wrapped her arms around his pillow and inhaled, burying herself in his scent, and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-.-

As Ronon moved through the empty corridor, he fought off the primal part of him that wanted to turn around and return to his quarters, return to the woman he'd left there to sleep in his bed, on his pillow, beneath his blankets.

It wasn't a difficult battle – the urge to find out what happened was too strong. But the little spark of just-turn-around-you-can-do-it-tomorrow was definitely making itself known.

Something _had_ happened tonight. He didn't even have to think about it – the pieces were definitely connected. He just didn't know what those pieces were.

First, she'd asked him to follow her.

That alone raised flags of warning. She'd been absolutely skittish. Something bothered her to such distraction she'd even been afraid to speak aloud in an empty room.

Second, the water.

And third, the intruder – physical or other. He'd felt it twice already. Once in the hallway before the water, and again in her room. A presence that was felt, but not seen. Something that should be visible, but wasn't.

And while he flashed with a momentary stab of anger that she hadn't told him everything, pride crushed it as he admitted to himself she had kept her promise. She'd come to _him_ for help.

And he meant what he'd said.

He'd give it.

No matter what.

Her room was empty – of people and of anything out of the ordinary. Whatever had been there before – was gone now. He'd searched the corners, the shadows and the hiding spots, but nothing was waiting. And his senses told him there was nothing there – whatever it was had gone.

It was now just an empty room.

But he could not let go of the memory that he'd felt _something_.

He debated bringing it up to Sheppard, and almost laughed out loud when he realized he was making Jennifer's argument for her.

He had nothing to show, and no proof to provide other than a feeling.

The two teams of marines scouting the corridors at the end of the pier reported nothing but water. Most of the rooms in that area were empty, most likely used for storage when the city was full, so little damage had been done other than the few massive puddles, and a corridor full of dead fish.

He eavesdropped on Rodney's and Radek's argument over protocols for accessing the outside doors in future, and learned there was definitely no way to track who'd actually opened them. A situation they rectified by including a tracer in the command code for future access.

Unfortunately, future access wouldn't help him now.


	6. Chapter 6

Jen had never had a bodyguard before.

She'd read about them in novels, understood the concept, and had seen them in movies, but experiencing it was a whole different story.

And she was quite sure Ronon must have read a _completely_ different handbook.

Because unlike the movies, books, and stories, he wasn't _there_.

Finishing her morning shift in the infirmary, she had nothing to go on other than the return of the missing sense of calmness which left her days ago. Her fingers worked properly, her mind stayed on it's task, and she didn't feel the insane urge to keep looking around corners before she turned.

And he was exactly the reason why.

Even if she couldn't see him.

She'd awoken late, had to scramble to get ready, and hadn't seen any indication he was anywhere around until she'd stepped into the hallway outside his quarters. He'd straightened up off the wall and damn near startled her through the ceiling.

She'd seen the relief in his eyes when she'd laughed. And felt the relief in her own to know she was feeling so much more like her old self than she had in days.

Amazing what a good night's sleep could do… a good night's sleep and Sateda's version of a bodyguard.

He hadn't said much more than a simple "'Morning" as he escorted her to her office, and he'd left her there with even less – a nod. But somehow she knew he wouldn't be far.

When one o'clock passed without any bizarre twists and magically appearing flowers, she nodded at the time on her watch and smiled at the stack of now completed paperwork. It was good to be back.

She looked up when a large shadow fell across her desk and smiled to see him leaning so casually across her doorway. He filled it like no other man could – arms crossed, his shoulders damn near touching both sides.

"Ready?"

She blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Lunch." He angled his head.

"Oh!" She felt a slight flush raising up her neck. "Yes. I'm starving." She glanced at her watch. "Although I'm not sure there'll be much left."

He shrugged and stepped out of the way as she approached. "Cook's always got something for me."

Jen couldn't help but laugh. She'd heard rumors of the special deal Ronon had made with the cooking staff. They kept a special volume of food for him aside so he wouldn't eat everything from the front of the line.

When they reached the cafeteria, she filled a try with items from the various offerings, while he accepted a tray piled high with a massive amount of food from one of the serving staff.

She shook her head to think anyone could possibly eat that much and he grinned. She moved towards the back of the room – partially out of a recent habit, and partially because today… today she sort of wanted to keep him to herself.

Not that it would be much of a problem, really. Most people shied away from ever joining him. The immediate team, Radek, and Evan being the exceptions.

They ate in silence, and she even managed to ignore the way he specifically seated himself against the wall so he could better see the room, and how his eyes never stopped moving – never stopped assessing or analyzing.

She also ignored the fact that he'd met her both this morning, and for lunch fully armed. Something he rarely did when on Atlantis – but something she was somehow both very glad for, and very upset about. Because he shouldn't have to think about things like this when he was home. This was his home too, his time to relax. Yet here he was, pretending to be casual for her benefit, when she could sense the coiled tension surrounding him.

The sadness of knowing she'd taken this time away from him buried her appetite under a wave of guilt.

His fingers landed on hers and halted the swirling motion her fork was making around her plate.

"You okay?"

"Yes." She nodded, then shook her head. "No." She sighed and released her fork, turning her fingers over and sliding her palm against his, her thumb absently rubbing the soft skin above his wrist.

"I'm sorry for all this." She said softly, wanting to say so much more but having no idea how to put into words the way she felt. "This is your home, too. Your time off. You shouldn't have to-"

"Jennifer." He interrupted, his tone low and warning, but soft enough not to carry any bite. His fingers tightened against hers, firmly holding her hand within his.

She looked up.

His free hand reached up, tucking a strand of hair in behind her ear, his eyes moving slowly across her face.

"I would not be here if I didn't want to be."

"But this is-"

"My time to spend." He said, the green of his eyes darkening into something deep and bottomless. "And if I choose to have lunch with a beautiful woman… then I so choose it."

Jen felt a knot form in her chest – a twist of longing around her heart. She couldn't stop staring, and had a suddenly inane desire to crawl across the table and kiss him – right here in the mess hall.

Instead she settled for a shiver that ran the length of her body – from the tips of her toes out through the top of her head.

She decided messy eating be damned, she was going to finish her lunch left handed because the fingers of her right hand were perfectly happy where they were – twisted beneath his.

It wasn't until much later, after they'd both finished and she'd finally had to release his hands in order to crack the top off her water bottle, that she felt the sudden shift in energy, and his body tensed, his eyes snapping to a spot just over her shoulder.

Jen felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, and she spun around in her seat, seeing nothing. But that was to be expected, wasn't it?

A few patrons sat across the hall, two marine's were loading up trays, and no one was anywhere near them. A perfectly normal scene.

Except it wasn't.

When she turned back, her eyes were drawn to a flash of yellow and she gasped, her chair creaking harshly as she jumped back. When Ronon's hand landed on her arm, she jumped again, this time pushing her chair away from the table.

Her eyes never left the small yellow flower that was sticking out of the top of her water bottle – an impromptu vase for the long green stem.

"Please." She whispered frantically. "Tell me you see that."

He nodded, and reached for her hand, pulling her up away from the table. With quickened steps Jen hurried beside him, leaving the mess hall, her hand gripping his tightly, not even bothering to care what anyone might think.

Ronon returned her to the infirmary, but this time he stayed. Once sequestered behind the closed door of her office he turned towards her, the fear in her eyes pushing him to distraction. He reached for her, and she came willingly, her arms sliding around his waist and squeezing tightly.

"I think it's time you tell me what's going on."

She nodded against his chest, her hair tickling the skin underneath his chin. She spoke against his shirt and he leaned back against the corner wall, understanding this conversation would be taking place with her standing right where she was. They were in full view of the windows should anyone pass by, but his normally flustered doctor didn't seem to notice.

Another fact on the list that told him she was too upset to be herself. Or too upset to care.

"A couple of days ago," She began. "I started getting these weird feelings sometimes when I was alone. It was almost like… like someone was in the room with me, or standing right beside me… but there was no one there."

Ronon understood – it was the sense that there should be a body to go with the feeling. Strong enough you wanted to have a conversation with the person, their energy level was so prominent.

"Two days ago… weird things started happening. Items appearing where they weren't before, like that flower. Stuff in different spots when I know I put it somewhere else. The feeling that someone's watching me… when I know there's no one here. And…"

She hesitated, her fingers digging into the cloth covering his lower back.

"It's just really creeping me out."

Ronon knew that was not what she was about to say. There was more to the story. But for now he would be satisfied with what he had.

"Does it happen all the time?"

She rocked her forehead back and forth across his chest. "No. It started slowly… and now it's happening more and more. I swear if you hadn't said you could feel it too, I'd think I was just going crazy. Actually I did think I was going crazy… until last night."

"The water?"

She nodded. "I felt it… I felt it again… right before I heard the water. It can't be a coincidence…" She leaned her head back and looked up. "Can it?"

Ronon shook his head. He hated coincidences, firmly believing they were a lazy fools explanation for things unexplained.

"Can you feel it now?" He asked, knowing the answer himself, but needing to make sure.

"No." She shook her head, worry creasing her forehead. "Why, do you?"

"No."

She relaxed, returning her head to it's sheltered position beneath his chin.

A muffled noise outside pulled her attention away, and he released her, feeling a surge of protectiveness as she moved away. She slowly licked her lips, the tiny darting motion of her tongue pulling his gaze down to her mouth.

With one quick movement he captured it before it disappeared, chasing after it with his. Her lips were soft and called to him for more than a brief, fleeting kiss. But this was not the time.

He released her, noting the flush in her cheeks with satisfaction, for it was there because of him.

She backed slowly out of her office, hazel eyes locked onto his, the heated flash leaving him feeling the loss of something greater as she turned away to treat her patient.

He moved towards the chair in the corner of her office and angled it so he could see out into the main room. Lowering himself, he watched, and waited, this time making sure his presence would be known… and felt.

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_A/N Okay this story seems to have a mind of it's own - as I madly type more chapters. :) Even I'm beginning to wonder just how creepy this is going to get! Again, ignore the typo's! I read it all twice at least, but sometimes things sneak by!  
_


	7. Chapter 7

Her afternoon was busy with a rush of routine injuries, and follow up appointments. She'd felt him leave at one point, his presence drifting away from her with a subtle loss. She knew she couldn't keep him here all day – he had his own things to do – but it didn't mean she didn't notice.

Her evening passed with several regular staff meetings, then a late dinner in her office with Christine while they reviewed paperwork, and just like that the day was over.

She'd returned to her quarters, unable to justify spending another night in Ronon's quarters, and arguing with the demanding little inside voice who was arguing with a very persuasive _why-the-hell-not_?

A subtle motion brought her out of her reverie, and she looked up to find him walking along side.

"Done?" He asked, and she nodded, her hand covering a yawn.

"Long day." She answered. "Long couple of days."

He didn't speak, merely moved with her towards her quarters. Jen almost laughed to note how most people would walk to either one side of the corridor, or the other, in a standard traffic flow. People passed each other on the right, or the left, leaving room for those moving faster. Ronon, however, moved directly down the middle, parting the oncoming around them, and while she walked in place beside him, the flow included her in it's birth.

When they neared her quarters, he stepped forward, reaching her door before she could. He turned to block her way and she looked up, expecting to see a argument forming, but instead finding only wariness.

"Me first." Was all he said.

He checked everything – even though she'd known the minute the door opened the room was… well… normal. She had no sense of anything being out of the ordinary. Well, nothing other than the fact that Ronon was standing in her room.

Satisfied, he turned towards her, his eyes moving once more around the room before giving her his full attention.

As he stepped closer, Jen felt a twinge of claustrophobia in what was her normally spacious quarters, and the temperature level notched up from the heat of his gaze alone.

He closed the gap… with excruciating slowness… and Jen couldn't seem to keep her eyes off his mouth. When the edge curled up – oh so slightly – she felt her heart beating faster. He stopped in front of her, his chest the barest of an inch from hers, his lips suspended in the air – close enough to touch if she'd just angle her head. Was he waiting for her?

Her body answered the question before her mind could process it.

She raised her head.

It started slowly, a melding of mouths, a soft parting of lips. Then their tongues began a slow dance, hands raising, fingertips meeting skin. Her thumbs grazed his jaw, his fingers twisted in her hair. Pressure rose through her body, a cramping ache twisted through her lower abdomen, demanding to be heard. The soft moan that escaped her lips was met with an answering growl, and the soft nip of teeth to her lower lip before he slowly raised his head.

Jen inhaled, long and slow, savoring the feel of his hands in her hair, the contrasting softness of skin and rough whiskers beneath her palms. He lowered his forehead to hers, and exhaled, his breath soft against the bridge of her nose.

She wanted to keep going. Wanted to know the rest of what could be. Wanted the promise of forever even just for tonight. She wanted to feel a man of such strength and power beneath her, above her, and know he was there just for her. He'd washed away what little experience she had the first time he'd kissed her. Even with something as subtle as a kiss – he'd jaded her. And now… now she wanted what was described in the books, the stories, the movies. She wanted to know if it really could be as good as all that. She wanted the fairy tale. She wanted to let go of everything she was afraid of and just… fall.

She could get lost here for an eternity.

She didn't want to let the feeling go.

But it was not to be. She could feel the coolness of the room returning. Ronon slowly raised his head, stepping back, his hands slowly sliding away.

He hesitated in the middle of her room, his eyes dark. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice low and raw, sending a shiver down her spine.

"No." She exhaled. "Yes. I…" _I want you to stay._ "I'm fine."

"You'll call for me if there's any problem?"

She nodded.

"Anything." He emphasized.

She nodded again.

He turned towards her door, pausing one last time to look over his shoulder before accessing the door panel.

He'd been gone for several minutes before Jen realized she was still standing in the middle of her room, staring at the closed door, and wishing he'd walk right back in again.

* * *

It was early enough he could feel the occasional presence moving through the hallway near his quarters, but late enough it was considered the middle of the night.

Lying on his back, still fully clothed, arms tucked under his head, he stared at the same spot on the ceiling. Ronon couldn't keep her out of his mind. He'd stood in the corridor outside her room for minutes – arguing with himself about returning to her. Why he shouldn't leave her alone. Why he should leave her alone.

She was safely tucked away in her quarters. Was there a chance some harm could befall her if he wasn't there? Was there more of a chance of something else befalling her if he _was_ there?

His heart skipped again at the fire she kept hidden. He tasted it in her kisses. They were soft and innocent, with promises of passion routed deep in her soul. She was the kind of woman who could warm a man's heart for eternity. The fever of what could be surrounded him and he fought it with cold thoughts.

A woman like Jennifer would never give anything less than all. A man could fill himself on forever with a woman like her. But a man could also crush and kill the innocence. His body tensed at the thought of someone – anyone – trying to harness that passion. Most men couldn't see it. Most men would see only the beauty without, and not the delicate passion within. It was a fragile balance between want and need – between giving and receiving. He'd seen too many men destroy it. But he'd also known a few who harnessed it. And those men – those men were the bravest of all. The luckiest. The happiest.

The beep of his door control had him out of bed and across the room before it finished.

The minute the doors parted, his body fell back with a stagger as his chest was covered in a pale colored blanket, and the woman who was wrapped in it. It wasn't her presence that knotted his insides, it was the soft sob that escaped her lips as she clung to him.

He held her tightly, pulling her back away from the door and letting it close. She buried her face in the front of his shirt, her fingers shaking as they twisted the material, the blanket falling to the floor, forgotten.

"What happened?" He asked, only to be answered with a loud sniff and a furious shaking of her head.

"Can I stay here?" She whispered, the anguish behind her soft plea nearly ripping him in half.

He tried to get a look at her face but she refused to be moved, clinging tighter if he tried to pull back.

"Are you hurt?" He finally thought to ask, a thousand scenarios rushing through his mind. Relief nearly dropped him to the floor when she shook her head.

"I'm fine. Just…" She inhaled and he felt the tremor course through her small frame. "Just don't send me back there."

He shuffled backwards, his arms around her, guiding her body with his, until his knees met the side of his bed. Stooping to move the covers, he flung them aside and lay down, Jennifer falling with him, sliding into his side, her head buried against his neck.

Gently pulling the blankets over her, he rolled onto his side, tucking her against his chest. She lay with one arm wedged between them, the other flung around his waist, fingers locked in the loops of his belt and gripping tightly. He could feel the scattered beat of her heart beneath his palm.

_What the hell happened?_

"Tell me." He whispered against her hair.

She shook her head.

"But you will." He suggested, fighting the urge to track and kill, yet understanding he was needed here more. She nodded, the last movement before she slipped into sleep.

He held her while she slumbered, the task itself difficult around the fits of dreams she kicked through. Her hands and feet made war with something – or someone – and he did his best to soothe her with whispered words.

It wasn't until a few hours later that he realized just how badly he needed to know, and how much of a mistake he'd made by leaving her alone in her room.

He'd done nothing but reseat the blanket she'd pushed off, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her upper arm. She'd only just settled down in her sleep, finally stilling against him, and he'd barely touched her.

With an agonized cry she launched herself off the bed, body tangled in the blankets, tumbling onto the floor. He reached for her but she scrambled away, her terrified sob breaking his heart. His arms wrapped around her, pinning her back against his front, the frightened flight leaving her as she slowly came to recognize where she was… and who he was.

Her legs gave out and he scooped her up, carrying her shaking form back to the bed, her soft repetition of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" whispered against his neck.

Worried his presence was only making it worse, and fighting with whatever demon could cause such a reaction at a simple touch, he tried to unwrap her arms but she clung to him with a soft cry of "no, no, no". So he stayed, sitting with his back against the headboard, a trembling woman in his lap, and a pair of hands clenched tightly in his shirt.


	8. Chapter 8

Torn between staying with her, and answering Sheppard's call, he fought a hard lost battle, and compromised, by leaving her sleeping in _his_ room, in _his_ bed, as the sun broke over the horizon. No one would dare bother what was his and live. That much he knew. And that much he knew _they_ knew.

With no time to talk to her before he stepped through the gate, he cast a last, longing glance at the darkened corridor leading back into the city, and stepped through the event horizon.

Eight hours, six dead bodies, and four rescued Marines later, they returned, the city looking and feeling the same as he'd left it.

Following behind Sheppard and Teyla, who were helping Lieutenant Michaels, he guided a limping Captain Kowalski towards the infirmary, ignoring the man's offer of doing it himself. Ronon didn't need to go to medical – he wanted to. Because if Jennifer was there, on duty, then she was still okay. But if she wasn't…

He pushed the thought away.

The infirmary was prepped and waiting for the injured, and Jennifer was standing in the middle giving orders, and looking very much in control. The only betrayal was the brief flush that crossed her cheeks when she saw him, and the soft graze of her fingers on his arm before she turned towards her patients.

Relieved, he returned to his quarters to clean up and change his clothes. Once inside, he found himself completely distracted by his neatly made bed. The single sight of sharply straightened blankets and perfectly placed pillows threw him into such a state he had to sit down.

Only not on the bed.

Because somehow, she'd gone and made it hers.

It was such a simple thing.

A light touch reminding him of her presence.

Of just what could be.

He had no idea how long he sat there – staring at the bed – before he finally realized what he was doing and dragged his ass into the bathroom. He had a certain doctor to go find.

* * *

Two hours later Jen left care instructions with her staff, and called it a night. She hadn't eaten anything more than a power bar today – the non-stop rush of odd accidents, paperwork, and meetings, kept her busy. It had been a long enough day – feeling as though she'd slept but hadn't – and then to have a rush of adrenaline as word came in that SGA-1 was bringing in wounded… Well now she was not only tired, she was tired and hungry. A cranky combination.

_SGA-1_, and _wounded_. The fear that spiked through her body at those words almost crippled her, until she heard the names, and conditions of the injured. Nothing serious. And no Satedan.

Damn him for leaving without saying goodbye.

And damn him for scaring her like that.

She stopped in the hallway, her stomach telling her to turn left, her heart telling her to turn right.

_Meh. Food can wait._

She was almost at his quarters, the lower levels empty and silent, when she met him coming the other way. Neither hesitated, the simply stopped, inches apart.

"Doc." He growled, angling his head.

She gave him an assessing survey, head to toe and back again.

He grinned.

She smiled back.

It felt almost… normal.

Except for the tension radiating between them.

Unspoken words.

Explanations.

And something else.

Jen saw the hesitation in his eyes, and knew she'd caused it, kicking herself for reacting as she had last night. She'd run it over and over through her mind and knew she'd made a mistake by running from him. It was the one thing she never wanted to show him – fear. Not fear _for _him, but fear _of _him. And she hated herself for being such a ninny she'd done it half asleep.

And stammering be damned, she was going to apologize.

She reached for his hand, pulling him into an empty alcove.

"I'm sorry." She said softly, watching the confusion crease his forehead. "About last night. About the way I reacted." She bit the inside of her lip and sucked up the courage, trying for the words she'd practiced. "I just… I don't want you to think… that you think… that you would think… It's not you. It wasn't you. Could never be… I mean… Oh, this is _so_ not coming out right."

When she looked up, she saw the trace of a smile right before he kissed her – hard and fast – and leaving her madly trying to catch her breath.

"Okay." She muttered. "I guess you understood?"

He smiled and pulled her against him, his head buried in the top of her hair. "I still want to know." He whispered.

"I know." Jen nodded, leaning back so she could look up into his face. "After supper?"

He grinned, and stepped out into the empty hallway. "Only because you mentioned food."

Jen laughed.

When asked later, Ronon wouldn't be able to explain what made him move. Years of survival. Years of living by instinct. Years of having nothing more than an automatic reaction. _That_ was what made him spin around.

He ducked.

He leapt for Jennifer.

He pulled her down into the alcove, his body covering hers as a trio of knives embedded themselves in the wall with a sickening thud. Spaced like steps they vibrated in their holes, three distinct locations. Where his throat, heart, and stomach would have been if he'd remained still.

The sharp tickling sensation along the back of his neck told him if he turned around, the assailant would be standing directly behind him to the left. The movement of the air, the direction of the knives, the angle of their hilts where they extended out of the wall.

And he did turn – his eyes betraying what his mind was screaming.

There was no one there.

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_A/N: Alas, fair reader, I leave you there tonight. Chapter 9 is half finished... and yes, it's going to get worse before it gets better. :P Don't worry, our fair maiden and her handsome soldier should make it out unscathed... Sort of. Maybe. Well... _


	9. Chapter 9

Ronon refused to let Jen leave the alcove until he was sure it was Sheppard who was approaching… and no one else. Jen wasn't really planning on going anywhere… and the late hour left the hallway empty – but empty was what got them into trouble to begin with. So she stayed put.

Sheppard took one look at the wall and whistled. "Geeze, buddy. Who'd you piss off this time?"

"I'm not so sure it was him." Jennifer answered, peering out from behind Ronon.

John raised one eyebrow and nodded a greeting. "Doc." Then he turned towards Ronon and raised both eyebrows.

"What?" Ronon growled.

"Oh… nuttin" John smirked lightly, turning towards the knives. He glanced from the blades back to Jennifer. "These are a little high for you Doc."

Jen sighed. Ronon had already told her as much.

And, she had to admit, seeing him standing next to the hilts, she knew that as well. She shuddered to think of what could have happened – what almost did happen – if he hadn't been… well… him. A lesser man would be dead.

John grabbed one of the handles and pulled, the blade requiring further use of a foot as leverage to extract it from it's purchase.

"Standard issue." He turned it over in his hand. "There's hundreds of these in the city."

Ronon removed the other two and flipped them over and over, blade to hilt to blade to hilt.

"So." John drew the word out, his eyes moving from Ronon to Jennifer and back again. "You two… wanna fill me in?"

Ronon stopped spinning the knives, his eyes moving to Jennifer. He waited, and she knew he was waiting for her to give him permission. She was surprised – no… shocked he'd even ask. Someone had just tried to kill him. She nodded mutely.

"Someplace quiet." Ronon turned back towards John. "No ears. We'll probably want McKay, but… don't wake Teyla."

"McKay, huh." John made a face. "That bad?"

"Oh yeah." Jen nodded. "That bad."

"You know we're going to be waking him up…" John warned, and Ronon grunted. "I'm just saying…" John shrugged, reaching for his com.

Jen almost smiled. Yes, waking up Rodney was dangerous… but, she supposed… necessary.

She argued with herself the entire walk to McKay's lab, only half listening to John and Ronon discuss the commonality of the knives, and the skill required for a triple throw of such accuracy.

Her head swam with the argument it presented. The sensation she'd felt right before Ronon tackled her announced the presence of their invisible man. The water… could it? Could it have been directed at him? It was possible… certainly possible. But it didn't explain last night. And it didn't explain the flowers. And it didn't explain the rest. His attacks were deadly – violent. Hers were… frightening. But not deadly.

It didn't match. Yet it had to be the same… person. It had to be. There couldn't be any other explanation, could there? Was she merely falling out as the distraction? Ronon wouldn't have been at the end of the pier if not for her. But how could someone have known she'd ask him to follow her? Had they overheard? She hadn't been quiet enough? And maybe Ronon wouldn't have been here tonight if not for her. Or rather, she wouldn't have been here if not for him. She shook her head violently back and forth trying to shake some sense out. If anything, she was more confused, and worried, than she was before. Because now there was more than one person at risk.

The thought that someone was trying to harm Ronon, and she was simply an un-willing participant, was a heck of a lot easier to digest than the thought that _she_ was the one being pursued, and Ronon was being targeted because of her. With option one, she could help. She _would_ help. With option two, she was left feeling useless. Option one gave her something to think about – something to do. Because if she could do anything to prevent someone from trying to kill him again… Anything… she could stomach it knowing it was for him.

But if it was just her…

No.

Concentrate.

He'd do anything for you.

Would you do the same?

_Yes_, her heart answered.

And as she walked, sandwiched between Ronon and John, she toyed with the edges of what might be an idea.

* * *

"Okay. So here I am… at…" Rodney glanced at his watch. "One forty seven in the morning. What, pray tell, is the big emergency?"

"Someone tried to kill Ronon tonight." John said, dropping the knives onto the counter.

"And that's an emergency? Shit." Rodney rolled his eyes and tried his best you-woke-me-up-for-this glare on Ronon. "That's like… an hourly occurrence with you. Next time just send me an email."

"Keller was there, too." John said, and Rodney's glare switched to Jen. She blinked at the scientist from her perch on a stool near the corner of the room.

"So why do you need me?" Rodney questioned, turning back to John.

"Because it's the same person who let in the ocean." John answered.

Rodney sighed. "And _why_ do I have a feeling you're about to add a caveat to that statement?"

"Well…" John drew the word out… "Apparently he's invisible."

"In… invisible." Rodney smiled. "Of course he is."

"Apparently." John nodded. "Although," he smirked. "I can't say I've seen him."

"Ha. Ha." Rodney muttered dryly. "Invisible."

"Invisible." John shrugged.

Rodney glanced around the room, under his desk, and towards the ceiling. "Is there a camera in here? I don't remember any memo about moving April Fools Day. You know if it's tease the scientist day you should be warned we don't play well with other people…"

"Rodney." Jen interrupted with sigh, reaching for his arm to pull him around. "He's not kidding."

As quickly, and succinctly as possible, Jen explained to Rodney and John what had been going on the past few days. The odd feeling of being watched. The mysterious gifts. The moving objects. The feeling of being right before the water hit, again in the cafeteria, and moments before Ronon leapt out of the way of flying knives.

Ronon confirmed the odd sense that there was someone or something there, and the mysterious appearance of the flower in her water bottle.

Between the questions, the answers, the memories, and trying to remember what she was leaving out and why, Jen was pretty much exhausted by the time she was done, barely able to keep her eyes open. Forgetting to cover her yawn this time, it drew out long and loud, and earned her three quick gazes. She waved.

Jen listened to the ensuing argument, planning, scenarios, and a lengthy digression between Rodney and John as to whether or not the Invisible Man could turn himself on and off like the original comic, or if he was permanently invisible like in the more modern set-up.

A growl from Ronon had the discussion back on track, and while they talked around her, Jen sat silently, giving up attempting to get a word in. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, someone else started talking and she snapped it closed again.

She sighed.

She was pretty much reaching the too-tired-to-think-straight hour. She wanted food. She wanted a shower. She wanted a change of clothes.

Crazy psycho be damned, she really wanted to go to bed.

Maybe her idea would work, and maybe it wouldn't, but either way, she needed to return to her quarters, and short of calling in the Marines – literally – she wasn't so sure she _wanted_ to go back to her quarters. Not without a plan B. Ronon didn't know. And she wasn't about to bring it up. Not here, not now. If he knew, he'd never leave her alone. And if he didn't leave her alone, she'd never know if she was right. And if she was right, she might be able to get what Rodney needed to figure out what was going on.

Damn.

Okay.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jen argued with herself until there was only one answer left.

She wasn't about to let someone try to kill Ronon - a third time.

Not if she could do anything to stop it.

Picking up one of Rodney's notepads, she grabbed a pen and wrote him a little note. She probably could have told him… but recent events had her more than a little paranoid of someone listening in.

* * *

Ronon walked Jen to her quarters, debating with her the entire time as to why she shouldn't just go to his room if she needed to shower, but she insisted she'd need to bring half her bathroom and it would simply be easier for her to do it quickly in her own quarters.

She wanted a long, hot shower and a change of clothes if she was going to be up all night. Technically he couldn't refuse her. But short of tossing her over his shoulder – an idea that had more and more merit the closer he got to her room – he couldn't really prevent her from going into her own room.

He still had no idea what had happened last night to send her running to his room. A conversation they had yet to have.

He should stay with her.

Wait until she was done.

She argued that Sheppard wanted him back in the lab, and figuring out what was wrong was more important than wasting his time babysitting.

So he relented. But he didn't do so without a few rules of his own.

First, he thoroughly checked her room – finding it empty and untouched.

Second, he made her swear she'd radio before she returned, and then wait for him to come get her.

Third, he made her promise to lock her door.

Forth, he received her word she'd tell him everything about what happened – even the things she was still keeping hidden – when he came back to pick her up.

Fifth, he kissed her, soft and slow, a reminder of something else he wanted to talk to her about.

It was only after he was satisfied she would wait until he returned, did he leave, despite the incredible urge to stay. He left to return to the lab, his mind scattered between a need to protect her, a desire to find out who was behind this, and a deeply primal urge to finish that kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

Rodney's review of the internal sensors showed nothing unusual, but he made a few adjustments he thought might compensate for any additional life-signs. He also started a search of the Ancient database for anything mentioning invisibility or any other similar element.

No crew or personnel were reported missing or unaccounted for.

Ronon couldn't recall anything out of the ordinary to send someone into a knife-throwing fit.

After another hour of debating, scenarios, and a plan to keep their CMO under wraps for the next few days, they still had nothing.

More than nothing.

They were left with even more unanswered questions.

Ronon checked the clock on McKay's computer screen – growing more and more tense as time passed, and Jennifer hadn't called. He had half a mind to return to her quarters to check on her – but he also had no cause to interrupt.

After finally deciding they'd done all they could do, and unless something else presented itself, they would call it a night.

"Morning." Rodney yawned. "It's practically morning." He looked at his watch. "No, it _is_ morning. Yay for me." He reached for his tablet and picked up a notepad. "What the-"

Rodney snapped his fingers. Halfway to the door Ronon turned, and glanced at McKay from over Sheppard's shoulder. The scientist was staring at a piece of paper, snapping and waving madly at them to come back.

"Shit." Rodney muttered re-reading the note before tossing it onto the countertop.

"What?" John asked, picking up on Rodney's suddenly agile moves as he jumped to his computer on the opposite side of the room.

John picked up the discarded notebook, and Ronon saw the message. Strange words – letter combinations he didn't recognize.

"It's gibberish." John said, moving closer to Rodney.

"It's not gibberish." Rodney snatched the notepad and held it up, wiggling it back and forth. "It's Klingon."

"Did you just say… Klingon?" John's eyebrows rose.

"Klingon." Rodney repeated, his fingers clacking furiously across his keyboard.

"The invisible man's a Klingon?" John frowned.

"No. Keller." Rodney muttered.

"Keller's a Klingon?" John rubbed his temple.

"What the hell is a Klingon?" Ronon shouted, his frustration growing with Rodney's increased agitation.

"And you call yourself a pop-culture genius, Sheppard. I'm surprised at you. The message. Not Keller. The message is written in Klingon. The phonetics are horrible but if you sound it out it's actually quite accurate for an obvious novice. Now Slinger over in Biology – there's a man who knows his-"

"McKay!" John cut in sharply. "The note?"

"How long's she been gone?" McKay asked, without looking up.

"Just over an hour." John answered, moving to stand behind Rodney, and making room for Ronon.

"What's it say, McKay?"

"Literally? Or Generally? 'Cause literally it's a bit confusing."

"McKay…" This time John growled.

"If she hasn't called in half an hour, hack her laptop."

"She… What?" Ronon said, stepping around John and heading for the door.

"I'm in." Rodney called. "And… that's weird."

"Ronon, wait." John called, and Ronon slowed, his mind fighting with his primal directive – Jennifer.

"There's a video file on the desktop that says Play Me McKay." Rodney muttered, "…and it's still recording."

"What's recording?" Ronon returned and leaned over Rodney's shoulder.

McKay pointed to a picture on the screen. "It's the webcam on her laptop."

On the screen, was a slightly hazy profile of a bed and headboard, and the long diminishing perspective of the side of a wall. The camera was apparently sitting on the table beside her bed, and aimed across the pillows along the wall.

There was nothing on the screen except the bed, which was empty, and neatly made. The lights appeared to be on full.

"I don't understand." Ronon shook his head.

"Wait." Rodney nodded, jumping back several minutes at a time. After the third click, Jennifer suddenly appeared on the screen. Rodney hit play.

There was no sound – but to see what they were seeing, sound wasn't needed.

"What the hell?" Rodney's face blanched as he glanced up at Sheppard.

The video-Jennifer was standing flat against the wall on the far side of her bed – her hair still wet from her shower - wearing a light blue tank top, white underwear, and nothing else.

Both her hands were holding the air in front of her throat as though she were gripping an invisible rope.

And she was speaking – no, yelling, shouting – at someone or something. Angry. Her body wiggled as though stuck against the wall.

But there was nothing there – nothing they could see to prevent her from walking away.

When her shirt moved, the material appeared to pull away from her torso, dancing around as though something crawled beneath it.

"What… is that…" John asked quietly.

Jennifer's head rolled frantically side to side, her torso jumping against the motion of her shirt. Her legs kicked out. She rocked against the wall, the position almost impossible to hold because at one point, both her feet were off the ground yet her upper body remained firmly seated in mid-air.

When her movement stopped – Ronon straightened.

Her lips moved, something short, fast, and furious.

Her arms dropped away from the air in front of her neck and she seemed to sag into the wall.

She smiled.

_Smiled_?

Her left arm raised and pointed directly into the camera.

"McKay, when was this taken?" John asked quietly.

Rodney looked lower on the screen. "Shit. Only twenty minutes ago."

When video-Jennifer flinched, Ronon's body reacted instantly, lunging closer to the computer even though his mind knew it wasn't really her.

With a sudden blur of movement her head snapped to the side. Her body sagged, her hands raised in defence as she stared up at the ceiling. A second time her head rocked violently and she dropped to the floor, her body disappearing from view behind the bed.

And Ronon ran.

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_A/N... YOINKS! Trust me... it's not over yet! An author once told me, never end a chapter unless you can leave them hanging. Sorry! Advice I've learned to follow! Onward!_


	11. Chapter 11

Ronon's heart was pounding with such a ferocious rhythm he could barely hear over the rushing sound of blood in his ears. Vaguely aware of Sheppard behind him, he slid to a stop outside her door and jammed his free hand over the access panel, his right fully occupied with the hilt of his gun.

The doors parted and they entered the room, his senses confirming his fears that it would be empty.

He rounded the bed, his gun sliding into its holster as he dropped to his knees next to Jennifer's motionless body.

She lay slumped against the wall, wet hair covering her face. His fingers shook as they moved towards her neck, feeling for the beat of her heart. His stomach rolled in agony until he felt the steady pounding against the pads of his fingers, shocking him with such relief he nearly cried out.

John dragged a blanket off the bed and dropped it over her half-clothed body.

A soft, mewling sound escaped her lips.

Ronon parted her hair, gently sliding it away from her face. She spit, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, making a small, bright puddle on the floor. Her fingers stretched towards her face and she hissed when they touched the rapidly forming bruise along the side of her jaw.

She rolled her head back and her eyes opened slowly, the hazel spirals pulling all the air out of his lungs. She smiled, winced, and closed her eyes again.

He scooped her up, blanket and all, and tucked her against him.

"Whooo." She moaned, covering her eyes. "Don't move so fast."

Turning towards John, Ronon saw a brief flash of understanding cross the Colonels face before it disappeared beneath a hardened expression.

The invisible man had just signed his death warrant.

* * *

Sitting on a bed in the empty infirmary, Jen's legs dangled off the side, the nearly melted ice pack making a few more half-hearted trips between her jaw, and her cheekbone. She'd bit the inside of her cheek, and it hurt like hell. But at least the painkillers were finally working, because the past forty-eight hours… no… seventy-two hours? Had finally caught up to her. She could barely keep her eyes open, and was about to tell everyone within earshot… well, okay just Ronon 'cause he was the only one here… but she was damn well going to tell him she was just going to sleep here because if they didn't make up their mind soon she was going to fall over anyway.

"Ready to go, Doc?" John said as he approached from across the room. Ronon stepped forward, giving up his sentry position at the end of her bed to stand beside the Colonel.

"God, yes." Jen nodded, flinging the melty ice pack onto the small table next to the bed as she slid off the edge. Her feet hit the floor - quickly followed by her knees as her over-taxed body refused to stand. She barely had time to react before Ronon had her high off the ground.

"Doc, maybe you should stay-"

"Nuh-uh." Jen mumbled against Ronon's chest, flinging her arm up over his shoulder and hooking it around his neck. "Painkillers are finally kicking in. You two make a decision?" She looked at John, who was giving Ronon a double eyebrow smirk.

John nodded. "Yeah, _someone_ made a decision."

Ronon started forward, reaching the deserted hallway in a few short steps. A pair of Marine's accompanied them, and Jen was a) far, far to exhausted to care that someone was watching Ronon cart her down the hallway like a weak kneed ninny, and b) far, far to exhausted to care about what the hell she should be caring about because she was currently feeling very much like a weak kneed ninny and wanted nothing more than for Ronon to be carrying her down the hallway.

Not that she knew where they were going. Nor did she care really… as long as Ronon was going to stay. She tensed, and he looked down.

"You'll stay?" She whispered.

His arms tightened around her and he nodded.

Jen sighed, the anxiety giving way to the sleep that called.

"Colonel?" She rolled her head away from Ronon's shoulder and glanced over at John.

"Yeah, Doc?"

"Tell Rodney to show you the rest of the video."

She looked up at Ronon, who was watching her closely. "It will explain everything." She said pointedly, watching his green eyes swirling with unvoiced emotions.

"And John?"

The Colonel looked towards her.

"When he's done, tell him I want him to delete it. And make sure it's gone."

John blinked. His eyes shifted away from hers, having some kind of unspoken conversation with Ronon.

John glanced back down at her, his tone unreadable, but she knew from his worried expression he'd understood her request. Whatever they were going to see was to be kept between them.

"Understood." John acknowledged.

Jen yawned, closing her eyes against the side of Ronon's neck. He continued walking, the steady strength of his strides lulling her to sleep.

She never saw the door to Ronon's quarters or the slight smirk on John's face as Ronon carried her through the archway. She never felt the softness of the mattress or smelled the comforting scent of his pillow. Didn't notice the warmth of the blankets covering her body. And she didn't hear the harsh curses from the three men tightly sequestered around her laptop.

For the next fourteen hours, she would know nothing but comfort, safety, and warmth.

Across the room, Ronon tried hard not to look away from the video, the urge to know and the urge to kill came to an agreement and he stared at the screen.

The video's were hours long – ninety-nine percent shots of an empty bed, or her unmoving, sleeping body. It had taken Rodney a few minutes to separate the two important parts, and he'd apologized profusely to Jennifer's sleeping form, promising to make this as quick as possible.

The first clip was three nights old – and lasted only a few seconds. Jennifer slept – her back to the computer – the small light behind the camera casting a soft glow around her. They watched with growing horror as the blankets were slowly pulled off her body – from someone off the end of the bed. The saw her waking – her confusion as half-sleeping hands reached for the blankets again. When the back of her shirt moved – with nothing there to move it – even with the silence of the video they could imagine her shriek as she leapt off the bed, hands scrambling against her back, eyes wide as she spun around in a circle, searching for an unseen attacker.

The second clip followed – the night she came to his room – the night he wanted to know… didn't want to know… needed to know. The unknowing slowly eating him alive.

Again – the same camera angle, but brighter light. More light. She slept with her arm over her head, shadowing her eyes. The blankets moved again – this time with speed as they were flung off and onto the floor. She sat up, her body scrambling against the headboard, her hands madly slapping at something in front of her. She turned to jump off the bed but her body jerked back, her hair standing straight up. Her hands reached up to pull her hair back down, her body twisting around to face the camera.

The raw fear in her eyes nearly drove his heart out through the front of his chest.

It was like watching her perform some bizarre ritual – the only one in the room. Movements a body couldn't perform on their own. To anyone else watching – she was an acrobat – bending and twisting in ways too unnatural to be understood.

She half fell, half slid off the bed to her feet, then her body skittered backwards until she was pressing herself against the wall beside the bed. She was holding her arms straight above her head – the angle of the camera showing only her profile, the thin pink pajama bottoms pulling away from the pale, sleeveless shirt she wore, exposing her midriff. She struggled, wiggling against the wall, her wrists crossed, arms reaching for the ceiling.

"This is where it gets… creepy." Rodney said softly, moving away from the computer to stare at a spot on the wall above the door. He crossed his arms and waited, refusing to watch it again.

Ronon glanced at John, who looked equally disturbed, and slightly colorless.

On screen, Jennifer wiggled, standing flat against the wall, her arms above her head, the position and motion almost sensual if not for the terrified look on her face whenever she rocked her head towards the camera. The tear tracing down her cheek shone like a dagger in the bright light of the room. This time, when her shirt moved, Ronon felt the bile stinging the back of his throat. Something crawled under the material… up across her side, pausing over each breast, before moving down and disappearing beneath the front waistband of her pants.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream and she kicked out, her feet furiously scrambling as she twisted and pulled, her body writhing and bucking. Her hand dropped suddenly and she flung it out in front of her, fingernails clawing through the air. The second arm dropped and her body staggered to the side, scrambling across the bed and jarring the camera away from the wall as she disappeared from view.

Ronon exhaled. Inhaled. Then exhaled again. His head turned towards the small, slight, half buried lump in his bed, a tangle of blond hair poking out from under the blankets and flowing across his pillow.

"Jesus." Sheppard hissed, his hands pulling his hair.

Rodney turned back, and stepped forward. "You seen enough?"

John nodded.

Ronon turned around, the shell-shocked expression on Rodney's face echoing his own. Rodney's index finger hovered over the keyboard, and the scientist was looking at him expectantly.

Ronon nodded, and Rodney's finger descended with a soft click. He closed the lid on the laptop and picked it up.

"I'll reformat it so it's unrecoverable." Tucking the computer under his arm he walked towards the door, pausing, then turning back towards them. He stepped up, stopping in front of the two men, but his eyes remained on the bed while he spoke.

"Tonight she was running a diagnostic software normally used in the medical lab. It's a modification of an Ancient program that traces molecular level shifts in the immediate atmosphere. It's part of the city's quarantine system to track changes in the air. I'm running the data now. Visually we know something was in the room with her. And something tried to kill you. But scientifically, with the data she collected, I should be able to pinpoint what."

Rodney hesitated. "It takes two and a half minutes for the scan to run." His voice dropped. "Earlier tonight... she was keeping him here – it here - in sight of the camera - for two and a half minutes. Two and a half minutes while the scan completed. It was a smart idea - brilliant actually. I don't know how or why she thought of it. But... she asked me to put this on her machine a couple of days ago. I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. "

Ronon's hand landed on Rodney's shoulder. "Can you find who did this?"

Rodney nodded, his expression hardening. "Oh hell yeah."

"Good." Ronon nodded. "Then she did what she set out to do."

Rodney turned, his shoulders slumped as he walked towards the door. Again he stopped. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes met Ronon's.

"You'll watch her?"

Ronon nodded.

"Good." Rodney turned away and opened the door. "I'll let you know as soon as I find anything."

With Rodney gone, John stood in the middle of the room, staring at Jennifer. Ronon moved up beside him.

"I want to choke her for doing something so dangerously stupid." John muttered, shaking his head, running his hand through his mussed up hair. "Remind me to kick her ass when she wakes up."

"Get in line." Ronon snorted, riding the slight slide of humour in John's statement, because they both knew damn well the only person who was going to get their ass kicked was the person who touched her.

Fury coiled like a hungry snake in his abdomen, eagerly awaiting what was soon to come.

No one could ever be left to get away with this… and live.

.

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_A/N Okay! So tonight I leave you here -- :P More posted tomorrow - and no... it's not over yet! :) We'll see if Jen's idea works in time... in time for what you ask? :)_


	12. Chapter 12

Jen awoke several times, and each time she was perfectly content to snuggle deeper into the blankets and go back to sleep. After the forth time, her stomach burned it's acidic reminder that she was absolutely starving, so she left her eyes open.

With a long, languid stretch, she groaned at her stiff muscles, and rolled over, accidentally whacking her cheekbone which caused her to wince and mutter a sharp "ouch, damn it".

"You getting up this time?" Rodney's voice muttered, and Jen peeked over the edge off the blankets. He was sitting cross-legged against the wall on the far side of the room, a tablet on his lap, and two laptops open on the floor beside him.

He tried his best to look put-out but Jen could see the relief on his face as she sat up in the bed.

"'Cause I could really use a shower," he continued. "And the two amigo's made me swear I wouldn't move a muscle until you finally decided to grace us with your mental prowess."

"Mental prowess?" Jen scratched her scalp with her left hand, and gently probed her sore face with her left. "Mental insanity, more like it."

There didn't feel like there was any swelling, but she was probably going to need to borrow a seriously large amount of foundation if she was going to cover up the bruise that was sure to be forming over the next couple of days. She snickered to herself – maybe she'd come up with a really cool story – something spectacular. Kickboxing? She laughed out loud, earning her an odd look from Rodney, who was packing up his gear.

"Leaving so soon?" She asked, adjusting the blankets around her lower body, and looking idly around for a clock.

"It's after 7." Rodney said, placing his tablet on top of the two closed laptops.

"In the morning?" Jen asked, feeling pretty good for only getting four hours sleep.

"At night." Rodney acknowledged.

Jen gasped. "Night! How long have I been asleep?"

Rodney checked his watch. "Fourteen hours, thirty seven minutes and… thirty two seconds."

"Wow." Jen muttered. "No wonder I'm hungry."

Rodney stretched, and pointed to two duffel bags sitting beside the bed. "The Bobsey twins brought those for you. Change of clothes and other stuff."

Jen threw off the covers and slid her feet off the bed and onto the cold floor. Hooking the straps with her fingers she dragged the bags closer. The first one contained several changes of clothes, and a various collection of bra's and underwear. She snapped the bag closed as soon as she saw the lacy white bra and panties draped boldly across the top of her clothes.

Her face was already flushing when Rodney admitted it was Christine who'd packed them for her. Jen sighed in relief, then made a note to demote Christine from head nurse to intern the minute she saw her.

The other bag was filled with toiletries and various other personal items, including her shampoo, conditioner, and just about everything from her bathroom counter. Okay, Christine could remain head nurse.

Jen heard Rodney conversing with either Sheppard or Ronon over the radio. He turned back towards her, and angled his head towards the bathroom.

"Can you be ready in thirty?"

Jen nodded, grabbing the bags and standing up. "Ready for what?"

"That's fine." Rodney answered the radio, "Yeah, the lab."

He turned back to Jen. "I'm almost done running the calculations. A 3D model is rendering so we should be able to get a rough idea of what we're up against."

"It worked?" She asked hopefully, really, really hoping she hadn't done all that… for nothing.

"It worked, but…" Rodney nodded, frowning, and stepping closer, his tone sharp. "Next time, leave the scientific analysis to the scientist?"

Jen blinked.

He shook his head, softening his voice. "You scared the hell out of me. And them. Us. Don't ever do that again."

Jen dropped the bag of clothes and reached for Rodney's upper arm. She squeezed apologetically. "I'm sorry, Rodney. I realize I put you in an awkward position, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you the information. Heck I wasn't even sure if it would work, if it would even come back, or if I could even keep it up for two and a half minutes. What would you have said if I'd told you what I wanted to do?"

"I would have told you that you were crazy and the answer was no."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think John and Ronon would have done if I'd told _them_ what I wanted to do?"

"They'd have locked you in the brig and sat on you… Yeah. Okay. Point taken. Just…" He reached out and turned her head to the side, his thumb against her jaw. "Next time… let someone else be the punching bag?" He dropped his arm and stepped back.

Jen nodded. "Deal."

Rodney looked at his watch. "You're down to twenty-five minutes."

"Going!" Jen muttered, spinning away.

"I'll wait outside." Rodney called, and she waved in acknowledgement, disappearing into the bathroom.

* * *

Using just about everything Catharine had packed in the bag – shampoo, conditioner, body soap with a soft scrub, a loofa, facial cleanser, two different moisturizers, vanilla scented body spray, leave in hair protector, toothpaste and floss, Jen felt sufficiently… normal… and only slightly over pampered.

The room was so steamy she had to wipe the mirror several times to see herself, and it was only after she was satisfied that she at least smelled clean and presentable, did she realize she'd left the bag of clothes in the middle of the other room.

She grabbed for the oversized towel she'd used to dry off with, and wrapped it around her body, laughing to note it actually circled her completely and then some. She rolled the top edge over, securing it. She had no idea where Ronon managed to snag it – the towel was absolutely huge – and surprisingly soft. Lengthwise, it covered her toes, and looked more like a terry-cloth dress. She laughed at herself.

How is it TV women always managed to find the tiny little white towel to parade around in – all sexy and half covered – and she got a blanket? If this were a movie she'd be just tucking it around her and the door would burst open and Ronon would walk in, stare at her with hungry eyes and carry her off to bed.

She eyed the door warily, but it remained closed.

Then of course, she had to think of just _who's_ towel she was wearing, and _why_ it was oversized, and just how _he'd_ look wearing it, fresh out of the shower – and she felt her skin heating even further. She immediately thought of the lacy white underwear in her bag… and ran through a different scene, this time one where she wasn't wearing the towel, only the expensive underwear she'd bought the last time on earth if only to have something a little more feminine than the comfortable stuff she usually wore…

Not that she'd ever worn it.

Or had a desire to wear it.

Well, okay, recently she'd had the desire to wear it… but for some reason, right now she was _really_ having a desire to wear it. She tried to picture herself, dressed only in the small scraps of silk and lace, opening the bathroom door to find Ronon standing outside… a hand on her waist, a tilt to her hip, flinging her hair over her shoulder…

She burst out laughing.

_Yeah, you definitely hit your head._

_Romance novel heroine, you are not._

Knowing her luck… it would be _Rodney_ standing outside the door, and she'd give him a coronary by appearing in her tighty-whities. Hell he'd probably fall over just to see her in a towel!

With a giggle she opened the door…

And froze to see Ronon standing in the middle of the room.

Her fingers gripped the door frame and she blinked - momentarily distracted by the thought that she'd conjured him up.

She stood completely still.

Except for the palpitations behind her rib cage.

He stepped forward.

Yep. Okay. He was really there.

And she was really here.

Wearing nothing but a towel.

"Oh boy…" She exhaled – the command to retreat shooting out from her mind to her feet.

Left foot back, slipping on a small puddle of water she'd left behind. Right foot scrambled and her heel landed on the bottom edge of the towel, stomping it into the ground causing her back to arching dangerously. Left foot slid forward, both feet scrambled, and down she went.

Landing flat on her back in the middle of the bathroom floor.

With one hand covering her eyes, and the other gripping the front of the towel, she tensed and waited for the laughter that should have come. It didn't.

So she did the only thing she could think of.

She laughed instead.

"You… okay?" Ronon's question came from somewhere above her.

"Yep." Jen nodded, keeping her hand plastered tightly over her eyes.

"Would you like some help?"

"Nope." She shook her head, her face flushing further. "I'm good…"

A moment of silence. Still no laughter.

"Jennifer?" His voice was closer.

"Hmm?"

"Are you hurt?"

"No, oddly enough."

Silence.

"Why are your eyes closed?"

"Oh… you know."

"No."

"Well?" She chewed on her lower lip then winced when she hit an injured spot on the inside of her cheek. "Because I'm lying on your bathroom floor?"

Silence.

Jen waited.

Still nothing.

She held her breath, squinted and peered out through a small crack between her fingers.

Ronon was squatting beside her, arms resting on the top of his knees, watching her intently.

She slowly lowered her hand.

He didn't move away. Nor did he move closer. He wasn't laughing either. In fact, he looked really, really serious.

"What?" She whispered, clutching the towel tightly.

He offered her his hand.

Jen hesitated only slightly before reaching up, allowing him to guide her to her feet, leaving her standing directly in front of him, the knuckles of her left hand touching his chest.

She looked up, and held her breath at the dark emotion swirling through his eyes. His hand lifted slowly, index finger reaching out towards her neck. She lowered her chin and watched as he slowly traced the faint red bruise stretching across her collarbone. A trophy from her adventure last night. His finger left a trail of goosebumps across her chest and she could feel her entire body react to the gentle touch.

She looked up – desperately wanting to know what he was thinking. He _had_ to be angry with her for not telling him what she was doing. Heck, even McKay was angry with her. But while she liked Rodney, and she appreciated his concern, he wasn't the one who's opinion mattered right now.

The look on his face wasn't just anger… there was something else running deeper. She hesitated between the desire to step back from the fury, and the urge to lean forward and apologize for being the one to put it there.

She opened her mouth, but didn't get a chance to speak before his hand closed around the top of the towel and he gently pulled her closer, his lips cutting off her words.

His mouth moved slowly, softly tasting, his tongue moving in to twist around hers. He placed his palm against her left cheek and moved to place a feathery light kiss across her bruised jawbone, and another on her cheekbone.

Sliding his hand around to the back of her head he returned to her mouth, pressing deeper, one hand wrapped in her hair, the other tightly gripping her waist. She slid her arms up around his neck and rose onto the tips of her toes, fighting to make herself taller.

He answered her movement with a growl, and suddenly she was sitting on the counter, the added height releasing her neck from it's tilted position, giving her more room to explore.

She ran her fingers down his neck and teased her fingernails over the tendons in his shoulders, feeling heat and power sliding beneath her palms. He pressed closer, his mouth moving down the side of her neck, landing a tiny succession of kisses along her naked shoulder, the hair on his chin sending a wave of shivers coursing down spine. When he kissed the soft skin beneath her ear, her body answered with a soft moan, the tension in her abdomen building as she arched her back, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his upper arms.

He growled and leaned back, his hands sliding down her arms and resting on the counter top on either side of her hip. His eyes were green with power and he inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly.

Jen could barely catch her breath… feeling very much like a piece of prey trapped in the sights of a wild beast. Prey that wanted to be caught.

She watched him watching her and shivered again, her body rebelling against the sudden stop.

"Jennifer." He growled, his voice lower than she'd ever heard it before.

She trembled under the barrage of goosebumps, and clutched the front of the towel with both hands.

"You'd better get dressed." He continued, his eyes dropping to the top of the towel before moving slowly back up. "Before I am unable to let you."

He straightened slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

It took Jen a moment to realize just what it was he was saying, and just what it was she'd been about to do. And even then, her body was so hot she couldn't even blush.

Hell, she could barely nod.

"I'll be right outside." He finished, backing out of the bathroom, and moving towards the door. Jennifer slid off the counter and watched him from the doorway. He glanced over at her, a slight hesitation in his step before he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.


	13. Chapter 13

Walking out of that bathroom was either the single most idiotic thing he'd ever done in his entire life, or the bravest.

He'd never expected to suddenly see her step out of the bathroom.

Or to be wearing nothing more than his towel.

Or to see the equally shocked expression on her face as she'd noticed him there.

Or to see the above mentioned towel fall away when she slipped, exposing a lovely, slim, pale skinned leg from upper thigh to delicate ankle.

Or anything else that had just taken place in the last five minutes.

He'd damn near crawled right into his bathroom on his hands and knees to take her right there on the floor. The urge to feel her beneath him was excruciating. He'd managed to crush the wild running desire and kept some semblance of self respect long enough to help her up off the floor, and then he'd gone and completely lost control when he'd seen the angry red welt running across her chest.

Standing in the hallway outside his room, Ronon came to the realization that he'd wholly, and completely, lost his mind.

Ten minutes later, when she exited his room, thankfully clothed, he was almost afraid to look at her – embarrassed for his actions, chastising himself for losing control.

But he couldn't resist a peek into those hazel eyes – just to be sure. And what he saw there froze him in place.

She stared up into his eyes, no fear, no accusation, just a heated directness that wouldn't let him go. And then she smiled.

And he lost it again.

"Ready?" She asked.

It was all he could do to just nod.

* * *

When they arrived at the lab, John was arguing with Rodney over something they were both viewing on a video screen. Rodney looked up and happily waved Jen over.

"Okay fine. Let's settle this."

Rodney waited for Ronon to close the door before angling his monitor towards Jen. "Michelin Man? Or Pop'n'Fresh?"

On the screen was a pixilated three dimensional rendering of a very blob like creature. There was a bit of a rounded shape on top, but for the most part…

"It kind of looks like a snowman."

"Oh you're a lot of help." Rodney muttered.

"So what is it?" She asked, tilting her head.

"It's our invisible man." John nodded. "Apparently."

Jen blanched.

"What?"

Rodney punched a few keys on the computer and the figure was now super-imposed over a still photo of her room from the video she took.

The position matched.

Jen retreated from the screen, her back coming into direct contact with Ronon's front. He was already leaning against the wall racks so he couldn't retreat any further, but she didn't want him to move. Instead she simply stood there, her back pressed against him, staring at the image.

Ronon watched over her head as Rodney played the video from the beginning. Jen was quite glad Rodney hadn't included _her_ on the screen. She wasn't sure if she could handle seeing it from the other side.

The orange blob moved slowly into the frame stopping next to her bed.

Parts of the blob moved over the bed. Then stopped moving. It moved to the wall beside the bed. Then it almost covered the wall. It would have been pressing directly against her at this point.

Shuffled movements… the color changing to a darker blue around the middle of the blob.

Rodney paused the animation. "That's when you kicked it." He glanced at Jennifer and pointed to the blue spots on the screen.

He continued the animation, the orange color returning.

A long spike of orange extended out towards the wall and Jen felt Ronon stiffen behind her as he realized it was that which bruised her collarbone.

The blob stopped moving.

The arm retracting.

"This is where you pissed it off." Rodney nodded as the blob tightened up and then lashed out twice before disappearing from view.

"So…" John crossed his arms and stepped back. "It's an invisible… blob?"

"No," Rodney shook his head. "It's not a blob. It's a… well… okay it's a blob. But it's a very _real_ blob. Jen's kicks did something to it… the spot she was kicking changed somehow. Which hopefully means it's mortal – whatever it is. And… thanks to Undercover Keller here, we have enough information to modify the city's internal sensors to detect it."

"How long will it take?" Ronon asked.

"A couple of hours. Two tops. I'll have to-"

"Just do it." John commanded.

"Yes, sir." Rodney gave him a mock salute and grabbed his tablet, disappearing from the lab. "I'll be in the control room."

"Doc?" John asked, turning towards Jen.

She stepped forward.

"I'm going to need to talk to a few people."

She nodded, fully expecting this to come out eventually, and knowing she wasn't going to be able to keep it quiet much longer anyway. Especially with a face that made her look like the proverbial housewife who'd walked into a door.

"I'll keep it to a need to know." He said softly.

"It's okay." She nodded. "If they need to know why, tell them. I don't want anyone else hurt because of me."

John nodded, then glanced quickly at Ronon. "You got it?"

Jen made a face, knowing damn well she was the _it_.

"Yes." Ronon answered.

"Keep your radio's on." John ordered.

"I'll need to get mine." Jen made a face, realizing it was still in her room, on her nightstand, where she'd left it.

"Okay." John looked directly at her. "I'll inform the Calvary. You two stay out of trouble."

Jen nodded again.

John didn't have to tell her twice.

* * *

She had Ronon take her back to her room so she could collect her radio and her watch. Not knowing the time was such a little thing, but it was aggravating her every time she glanced at her naked wrist. Rodney had said a couple hours. How long was a couple, really? Two? Two ad a bit? And how long, exactly, was a bit?

Once she reached her room, she changed her mind, and decided she could always get another watch, and they had spare radios galore in the Armory.

She couldn't stop staring at the spot on the wall.

After a moments hesitation, she sucked in a breath and walked around the bed to the small nightstand where she kept her watch and her radio. Reaching for both, she stopped, her fingers tightly gripping the small electronics as she stared at the wall in front of her. She was standing pretty much right where the blob beast would have been standing while it…

She shivered, and turned away, coming face to chest with Ronon.

She looked up.

He looked down.

"I need to know something." He said quietly.

Jen blinked, wondering just what else there was left. He'd already seen everything. There was nothing else she had to share.

"Okay." She angled her head.

"No more secrets?" He raised an eyebrow.

Jen shrugged. "There's nothing left to tell. You, ah… saw it all for yourself."

"What did you say to make it hit you?" He asked, no pretense, no warning, just a loaded question hanging in the air between them.

Jen shook her head.

_Oh, that._

"Nothing." She answered quickly.

He raised an eyebrow and continued to stare down at her.

"I don't remember." But she did remember. She knew exactly what she'd said. And she wasn't about to repeat it.

He didn't answer, but his eyes told her he knew she was lying. She tried to step around him but he moved with her.

"Why is it so important?" She asked, her eyes looking everywhere but at him.

Again, no answer.

She crossed her arms over her chest.

He simply waited.

Ronon wasn't sure why it was suddenly so important for him to know what she'd said. But her sudden insistence that it was nothing made him wary. She'd said something to force the creature to hit her. Twice. It had to be important. It was the only piece of the puzzle that was still missing – besides the creature itself, and Rodney was seeing to that.

He wasn't going to let it go. Not this time. He'd stepped back twice already – and both times she'd been hurt. He needed to know, and he wasn't leaving until he found out.

He was staring at her profile while she looked at a spot on the wall to her left. He could see the hitch in her breath, but it was the sight of the tiny teardrop escaping the corner of her eye and tracking down the side of her nose that nearly broke him.

He reached for her but she shook her head, swiping the moisture away from the side of her nose and crossing her arms tightly around her middle.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. "I'm really sorry. I just blurted it out, you know? I shouldn't have said it. I didn't mean to say it… It never should have. It wasn't fair and I should never have put you in this position in the first place. I mean it's not my place. I can't… I didn't think… People just do it and it's not fair…"

"Jennifer." He interrupted her muttered apology, having absolutely no idea what she was apologizing for. "What did you say to it?"

"I… um…" She sighed, her slight frame sinking down onto the edge of her bed. Her voice was soft and small, and he stepped closer to hear. "I threatened it."

Ronon frowned.

"You threatened it?"

She nodded.

"With what?"

Silence.

"Jennifer?"

A soft sight. "With you."

"You threatened it… with me."

Another nod.

"_That_ was what you said?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" He slowly squatted in front of her, reaching for her hands to stop them from twisting so tightly against each other.

Her chin raised and he could see the anguish and pain written across her face.

"I'm sorry because I should never have said that. For one, I'm a doctor. I shouldn't be threatening people, and I should never have mentioned your name. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry."

"Why would it not be fair?" At this point Ronon was completely and utterly confused with her logic. She was apologizing for telling the truth?

"Because I don't think of you like that."

"Like what?" He knelt on the floor, his abdomen clenching a little as his mind tried to grasp what it was she was trying to say. "Like a killer?"

"No." She looked horrified, her shoulders straightened as her hands squeezed his with a surprising strength. "I never said that. I don't think that at all!"

"Then what _do_ you think of me?"

Her fingers stilled against his and she stared at him. Her eyes darkened and he felt a sudden shift in her presence. She seemed suddenly taller – her shoulders squared up and she looked at him with grave seriousness. He braced himself for the worst – fearing whatever she could possibly think of him that could be lower than a killer.

"Justice." She said firmly.

He shook his head. "What?"

"Justice." She nodded slowly, her eyes dropping to where _she _now held _his_ hands firmly in her lap. She turned his hands over, running her thumbs lightly over his palms. "Justice." She repeated, her eyes remaining downcast. "We have these… stories on Earth of a time when we didn't have such strict laws and rules. There were no security forces or police or armies to protect people. They called it the Wild West. Criminals used to get away with robbery and murder because there was no one to stop them. But some stories tell of lawmen that would do just about anything to track these men down, and bring the criminals to justice. There were no reports to file. No real rules. If someone committed a crime, they were made to pay for it. If the crime was bad enough, most of them didn't make it back alive to stand trial. It was… it was just how it was. It was… justice."

She twisted his fingers against hers again and squeezed.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how else to explain it."

But Ronon didn't need any further clarification. Her soft words explained it well enough. And of all the answers she could have given, that one was the one thing he'd never have expected. Because his lovely doctor didn't think of him as a killer. She thought of him as a rightful protector.

And yet here she was… apologizing for using his name to ward of an attacker… fearing she would offend _him_?

The woman was beautiful. She was brave. She was completely insane if she thought for a moment he could ever have been offended for defending herself. For choosing him to watch out for her. For using his name as a weapon. Because that was exactly what he would become for her. She'd named him her champion and by the Ancients he'd be one.

When she looked up, her face worried, searching his for his reaction to her words, he couldn't stop himself. With his hands happily trapped between hers, he leaned forward and claimed her for what was his.

.

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_A/N Okay - that's it for tonight! More tomorrow! Promise!!_


	14. Chapter 14

He kissed her softly… slowly… with the promise of what could be stealing away all her breath. When he pulled back, she inhaled and held it, her eyes trapped beneath his. He remained kneeling on the floor in front of her, their fingers still entwined on her lap.

"So…" She exhaled slowly. "You're not angry?"

He shook his head. "_Anger_… is definitely _not_ the emotion I'm feeling at this exact moment."

Jen blinked, studying his face. She could see something powerful swimming beneath the surface that he was trying to control.

He leaned forward again and kissed her quickly, pulled back, changed his mind and kissed her again. The third time he stood, and pulled her to her feet.

"Come on." He growled softly. "Before I can't leave."

"Why can't you leave?" She asked, looping her watch around her wrist. She tucked her radio in behind her ear and looked up when he didn't answer.

"What?" She asked… confused at his silence. The look on his face was a mix of incredulity and humor.

"You really have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?"

Jen straightened, completely confused as to what she could possibly be doing wrong. "No! I'm sorry. What? What did I do? I… I didn't mean it. I mean… whatever it was… If it's about all this… I… I never meant for-"

The sudden, hot pressure of his mouth on hers stole away her thoughts and the low growl in the back of his throat left her breathless and covered in goosebumps.

"Jennifer." He warned.

"Yes?" She croaked out.

"I want you."

"You want me to what?"

He smiled slowly, his body pressing forward, hers sliding slightly backwards until she was standing against the wall beside her bed. The same wall where the invisible blob had her pinned… but right now the blob was so far out of her range of vision she'd completely forgotten why she was even here, her entire attention directed on the fiery green eyes that were inches from hers.

"I want you." He said, his face moving closer with each word. "I want you naked. I want you breathless. I want you on my bathroom floor wrapped in my towel, still wet from bathing so I can peel the towel away and lick every last drop of water off your body. I want you to forget everyone who's ever touched you. I want to _kill_ everyone who's ever touched you. I want to be yours and yours alone. I want to take you here and now and make you mine."

By the time he was finished, his hands braced on the wall beside her shoulders, he was leaning across her, his head bent, breathing against her ear.

Jen couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Her mind swirled with what could quite possibly be the most amazing thing anyone had ever, and would ever say to her.

_Mine_.

Oh lordy.

She spread her palms against the wall to hold herself upright – most definitely not trusting her knees at this moment. He nuzzled her neck, growling low in his throat. She closed her eyes, and with a deep breath, she let the words come – and this time, didn't bother to stop and think.

"Oh, Ronon." She exhaled, her lips moving against the side of his neck. "You _already_ make me forget everything. You make me forget how to talk. Forget how to breathe. When you're around… you make me feel… like I'm the only woman in the universe. When you're gone… you make me think I was dreaming. I want… What I want to do… I want to explore every inch of your body with my hands. I want to kiss every scar and make you forget why you have it. I want to know what it's like to belong to a man like you."

Letting her impromptu speech trail off, Jen inhaled slowly, knowing there was no way that could have made any sense and hoping she really, really didn't sound as stupid as she thought it had as she let herself say it.

When he moved his head, she opened her eyes, her heart slamming against her ribs with worry, with anticipation, with dread and excitement all wrapped into one pattering dance.

He leaned closer, his mouth hovering just above hers.

He hesitated.

Then leaned back.

He inhaled, closed his eyes, tilted his head slightly and exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. With a soft groan, he reached for his ear.

"Go ahead." After a brief pause he touched his forehead to Jen's. "We'll be right there."

Another tap to his ear and he closed his eyes briefly. "McKay said to tell you he's a genius and he's done. We're expected in the control room."

"Oh." She exhaled.

Yet Ronon didn't move.

"I really, really want to kill McKay right now." He finally said.

She laughed softly.

"Every scar?" He asked, straightening slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. "That might take a while."

She nodded. "I thought that would be the point."

He growled and shoved himself away from the wall, taking two steps back.

Jen stepped forward, her legs only slightly wobbly.

"Come on." She said, moving around him and heading towards the door. "Before I can't let you leave."

She couldn't help but smile at the sound of his laughter echoing off the walls.

* * *

Clustered around one of the screens in the control room, Jen stood to the side, her back to Ronon's front, waiting for Rodney's program to adapt itself into the city-wide sensors. Footsteps behind them announced Sheppard's arrival as he jogged up the stairs quickly followed by Major Lorne.

"You okay, Doc?" Evan asked, his eyes moving to the slightly purple tint now painted along her chin and cheekbone. Jen saw the flash of fury in his eyes before it was quickly buried.

Jen nodded and smiled. "Nothing broken."

Ronon grunted.

"So where is he?" John said, looking between Rodney and the electronic display of the city's layout.

"He's not here." Rodney shrugged.

"What do you mean he's not here."

Rodney waved at the scanner. "He's not here. How else can I say it? The sensors are now directly calibrated to pick up exactly the same density and breakdown as our blob, so the minute he appears, we'll know exactly where he is."

"Appears? Appears from where?" John muttered.

"The invisible man's invisible?" Evan spoke up. "Somehow that just sounds wrong."

"The sensors _are_ working." Rodney said, spinning around to face the two pilots. "Maybe we just need to draw it out."

"How?" Jen asked.

"No." Ronon answered.

"No what?" She turned around.

"No you're not playing the bait."

"Who said anything about bait?" Jen made a face.

"If it needs to be drawn out, I'll do it." Ronon frowned down at her.

"What if it doesn't want you?" She added, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Kids, kids." John stepped forward, fighting desperately to keep the smirk from showing and failing badly. "There's no need to fight. I'm sure we can come up with a compromise."

* * *

After fifteen minutes of suggestions that were either shot down by Ronon as too dangerous for Jen, shot down by John and Jen as too dangerous for Ronon, and shot down by everyone, Rodney and Evan included, for being either too silly, too stupid, too outlandish, or too big an explosion, Jen gave up.

Instead she insisted _someone_ escort her to the infirmary so she could check in with whoever was working the night shift, check any patients that might have come in, pick up her messages, and make sure she was ready to work in the morning.

_Everyone_ escorted her – even Rodney.

Of course as soon as she arrived, fully armed entourage in tow, the compromise discussion continued in her office while she worked in the main room - sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly, sometimes so loudly she had to tell them twice to keep it down.

She almost burst out laughing when she overheard Evan suggest John dress up in a wig and pose as Jen.

When her stomach growled for the third time in as many minutes, she tried to remember the last time she'd eaten, and couldn't. Funny. She kept meaning to get something to eat. Yet somehow something always came up.

She headed towards the supply shelf and the stack of protein bars Christine usually kept hidden away behind the gauze.

It was just as she was reaching for the box she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

_It was here. _


	15. Chapter 15

Ronon's head snapped up a fraction of a second before Rodney's tablet started beeping.

"Got you!" Rodney muttered, grabbing for his tablet. "Okay, where are you…"

"It's here." Ronon said, drawing his weapon and, moving into the main room, rushing to the spot Jennifer had been standing right before she vanished – into thin air.

"Did anyone else just see that?" Evan muttered spinning in a circle, weapon leading his eyes around the room.

"Shit." John cursed. "Teams one and two to the infirmary!"

"McKay!" Ronon shouted, every nerve ending in his body tensed for a fight. He pushed every thought away – every what if, every worry – and concentrated on keeping his mind clear. He would be no good to her if he let emotion cloud his judgment.

"It's here." Rodney whispered from behind Ronon's shoulder, holding his tablet out and pointing to a spot near the back of the infirmary. "Right… there."

All four men turned.

There was nothing there.

"I'm telling you," Rodney whispered harshly. "It's right there – across from the shelves… no… it's moving… slightly to the right… further… over that way… now it's stopped again. It has her…" Rodney waved his hand frantically in the general direction of whatever it was they were chasing. "It's the only explanation."

John, Ronon, and Evan stepped slowly forward, weapons raised and aiming at… nothing. Ronon took a deep breath, his mind clearing, the anger and fury centering itself deep into his soul and pulling out all the power and concentration in one long, steady breath.

His arm automatically moved to the right.

"It's backing up." Rodney called out. "Left. No right. Shit it's moving fast. Out the far exit!"

Everyone ran.

* * *

Rodney's directions, John's orders, and Ronon's speed eventually had the mysterious creature hemmed into one of the storage areas. With both exits blocked, they attempted to corner the creature against the far wall.

The creature had Jennifer.

His eyes betrayed him.

She was here.

He smelled her scent – the light, flowery fragrance she carried with her after she showered. He allowed his other senses to take over – ignoring what his eyes couldn't tell him. The sounds of the room, a noise out of place. Her sweet scent, and something darker. The change in the air, a movement that didn't belong.

Every time they moved closer, the creature countered.

Obviously it could see them just fine.

She was here.

She needed him.

And he couldn't see anything.

_See_.

He couldn't see.

But the creature could.

What if the creature couldn't see either?

"McKay." Ronon turned his head towards Rodney, but didn't take his eyes off the area the creature was hiding. His eyes committed the layout of the boxes in the corner to memory. "Turn off the lights."

"What?"

"Do it." John ordered, quickly ordering the teams at the exits to step inside and close the doors.

Rodney selected a few spots on the screen of his tablet, and with a third poke of his index finger the room plunged into darkness.

"Light, McKay." Ronon nodded in the glow of the tablet's backlight.

"Oh. Right." Rodney whispered, turning the screen off.

Ronon smiled.

"Time to play." He whispered into the blackness.

All time stopped as he moved forward – his eyes closed even against the darkness – letting his senses expand. He angled right, his feet silent across the floor, a slight shift left.

There.

He could feel the hair on his right wrist standing as he shifted his grip on the trigger. A faint warm tingle ran down the right side of his body. Her scent tickled his nose. Sharper here.

_Jennifer_.

Standing right beside him.

He eased himself back and slid to the left, placing her energy next to his left side. He lowered his chin. Her hair carried the strongest scent, close to his nose, lower, not higher. She was standing barely a foot away from him.

Behind her – slightly to his right – her captor. The scent was strong. Sweat. And something sweet. Something familiar.

Something _human_.

Ronon's nostrils flared. This was no Pegasus creature they chased. This was a man – a human man.

A dead man.

Every muscle in his body tightened with a sense of finality.

He angled his right arm, swung it with calculated slowness through the air above her head, the muzzle inches above her scalp, and he fired.

The bright spark of blue light lit up the room and in that brief flash, he had a vision his nightmares would never let him forget.

Jennifer stood directly in front of him, her eyes wide with terror, the barrel of a service revolver pressed tightly against her side, a man's hand slipping away from where it had previously been covering her mouth.

Darkness returned.

Her hands sought him out, fingers crawling against his chest. Her sob pierced his heart as his arms found her, pulling her close. Voices calling his name. His own crying out for lights as he felt her body slipping into dead weight in his arms.

As the lights returned, the Marine's circled, and he stared down at the unconscious woman in his arms.

* * *

"If McKay hadn't tripped over him, it would have taken a lot longer." John smirked from his perch on the side of Jen's desk.

"I did not trip." Rodney rolled his eyes. "Stumbled. I stumbled. And I knew he was there all along, remember?"

"Eat." Ronon ordered, pointing to the tray of food sitting in front of Jen.

"Yes, Mother." She frowned, and stuffed another spoonful of stew-surprise into her mouth. As soon as everyone figured out she'd merely fainted – and from lack of food she insisted – not from fright or anything – they'd hauled her back into the infirmary and were now force feeding her a bowl of stew, two pieces of buttered bread, a salad, a plate of cookies, jello, two power bars, and a bottle of water. She'd at least managed to convince Rodney she couldn't possibly eat the rice-crispy square too.

With Evan taking care of locking up the invisible man, John, Ronon and Rodney were warily ensuring she was going to eat everything on her tray.

"So…" Jen mumbled around the stew. "I'm eating. Tell me!"

Rodney grinned and practically leapt up off the chair in the corner. "Right! Well you see, apparently Ensign Butternuts-"

"Lieutenant Butterman." John corrected.

"Butterman, Butternuts…" Rodney waved his hand dismissively. "Butternuts, as you well know, was with the team doing survey work along the far pier, and cut his hand on a piece of ancient equipment. You patched him up and sent him on his way. But what you didn't know was the room they'd been cataloguing for the past week, was an ancient testing lab for personal cloaks. Not shields like the one we found – that Lucious got a hold of… but a person cloak. Very Harry Potter. Only without the actual cloak."

Rodney held up a device that looked almost identical to the shield he'd discovered the first week on Atlantis, except this one was yellow.

He attached it to his shirt, pressed it and… disappeared.

"Wow." Jen exhaled. "Just like that?"

Silence.

Ronon angled his chin towards a spot over behind Sheppard.

With a blink Rodney reappeared – four feet from where he was when he disappeared. "Tah-dah!" He said with a flourish. "Unfortunately, the entire collection was washed out to sea when we drained that end of the pier… so… this one's it." He looked down dejectedly to where it was pinned to the side of his shirt.

"Wow." Jen repeated, so all this time… it was just Lieutenant Butternuts… Butterman? But… why? What on Earth did he want?"

Rodney pulled the device of his shirt and jammed it back into his pocket, his expression mixing with a slight flush of embarrassment.

"Well… apparently…" He looked warily at Ronon, before turning back to Jen. "He wanted, you."

"Me."

"On his way to the brig after Jedi-Dex here stunned him, he kept blithering about how you were the… ah… most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and how he just had to have you… blah blah blah… and how Ronon was just in the way and needed to be dealt with… and how _you_ needed to be taught a lesson to see _he_ was actually the one you should be with… yadda yadda… insert more creepy stalker ravings here."

"Apparently the water was an accident." John leaned forward and snagged a cookie. "Butternuts was supposed to…" He glared at Rodney. "Okay now you've got me saying it."

Rodney shrugged innocently.

"Butter_man_…" John continued. "Was planning to ride in all White Knight and rescue you but the water got a little out of control and he couldn't figure out how to shut the doors again. He accessed it from the level above where you were, planning to come down that staircase Ronon luckily found. You know…" John turned towards Ronon with a raised eyebrow. "You never did tell me just what you were doing out there…"

"No." Ronon answered. "I didn't."

"I see." John nodded, giving Ronon a knowing smirk. "Anyway, all the rest was his twisted way of getting your attention so he could swoop in and save you from the big bad… him."

"Swoop?" Rodney made a face.

"Yeah, you know… swoop." John shrugged.

"So the knives, my room, everything was all Butternut?" Jen was incredulous. "I just… that's just… why the hell didn't he just… I don't know… ask me out to lunch? Dinner? A movie? Flowers or chocolate always works. But no instead I get mysterious grope sessions, punched in the face, kidnapped at gunpoint. What on earth would make him think I would have anything… I… it's just…" She sighed in exasperation. "All because he wanted to ask me out on a date?"

"Something like that." John smirked, glancing up at Ronon.

Jen poked him with her fork. "Stop provoking him."

"What?" John frowned. "I didn't say anything."

"Okay, I'm full." She pushed the tray away.

"Eat!" Three voices echoed.

"I hate you all." She muttered, picking up her spoon.

"Oh come on, you have to love at least _one_ of us." John sing-songed.

"Stop provoking her." Ronon growled.

Jen smiled into her stew.

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_A/N! WHEW! And there we have it! :) I hope you like the ending and just WHAT it was that was going on. I wanted to drag it out more but ... the cottage calls and I have to leave at 7am! So I wanted to post the ending before I left!! Yes, Yes I know I left it hanging a little there with the rest of Jen/Ronon's little "I want" discussion. don't worry... I'll be writing a little "tag" to this - but it'll probably have to have an M rating 'cause it will get a little steamy! :) To all my awesome reviewers - thank you so much for all your encouragement. I'm on vacation for a week - and will be madly writing while I'm gone so look for a few completed stories when I get back! :)_


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